


Scorpius's Discovery

by litfangirl689



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, F/M, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Malfoy Family Feels, Memories, Parent Draco Malfoy, Past Child Abuse, Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-05-05 22:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litfangirl689/pseuds/litfangirl689
Summary: Scorpius is in the middle of his most boring summer ever. After his adventure with Albus, he's craving more. When he finds a pensieve with some of his dad's memories in it, of course he can't resist going into it.





	1. The Pensieve

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fanfic, so I would love if you told me how you feel about it!! Just incase you haven't realized, I love Scorpius. He's an adorable little cinnamon roll.

Scorpius was bored out of his mind. After he and Albus had stolen a time turner, went back in time multiple times, and almost destroyed the world, he had been grounded by his father. Draco Malfoy didn’t seem interested in letting up on his son’s punishment any time soon. At first, his dad had been so glad to see that Scorpius was safe that he didn't seem to remember that everything had been Scorpius and Albus's fault in the first place. Scorpius had hoped that it would last, but obviously it didn't. After getting over his initial relief, his dad had been furious. Scorpius had never seen him that angry, and he hoped he wouldn't ever again.

“It was very irresponsible of you to follow that Potter boy off the train,” his dad would snap every time Scorpius complained to him about being grounded. “Do you know how worried I was?” 

Scorpius felt bad for making his dad worry, but he was so bored! Summer had started almost a month ago, and he hadn't seen Albus since then. And he knew for a fact that Albus wasn't grounded or punished at all. How was that fair? 

He picked up the book he was reading and sighed. Before he had gone back in time, he had been totally fine with reading to pass the time. But now he was restless. He wanted adventure, even if he'd rather not almost bring back Voldemort again. Plus, he had already read most of the books in the house, and he needed some new ones. Suddenly, he sat up. His dad had books in his room that Scorpius had never read before. He had never been allowed to, but what was the harm now? It's not like he could get his dad any more mad at him than he already was.

He frowned in thought. He had been in his dad's room before, but never while his dad didn’t know about it. For some reason, Draco Malfoy was very private about what was in his room, and he never let Scorpius in unless he was there too. 

Probably because of all the dark artifacts he has in there. Scorpius thought drily. Ever since seeing his dad in the world where Voldemort was alive, Scorpius had become more suspicious of him. Draco had been an evil person in that world. He had hated muggles, and was willing to do anything the ministry told him to do. He had even physically hurt Scorpius, slamming him into a desk, and painfully too. Now, Scorpius wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t do it in this world as well, even if it had never happened before. His dad was a good father in this world, even if he was distant. 

Scorpius hadn’t told anyone about his encounter with his dad in the alternate reality, not even Albus. He thought it would be better to keep it private, because that world was gone, and his dad was normal, if not a little more overprotective. 

Scorpius decided to go into his dad’s room. After all, what could happen? He was only going to get some books to read, not anything dangerous. He got out of bed and walked out of the room.

“Dad?” Scorpius called, just in case he was around. Nothing but silence. Scorpius walked across the large house to his dad’s room, which was on the other side of the long hallway. The door was closed, as usual, and Scorpius hoped it was unlocked. He tried the handle, which creaked open, and he sighed in relief and entered the room. 

The room was dark, and the blinds were closed. It was very big, and spotless as always. Draco was a very immaculate person, and his room was no exception. The giant bed was made, and the green decorations on the walls were straight and neat. The books on the bookshelf were organized by alphabetical order. Scorpius hesitated before going to the bookshelf. He had been paranoid around bookshelves ever since his traumatic experience in Hermione Granger’s office with Delphi and Albus. He shuddered thinking about Delphi, and tried to push the memories away. Books. Books would help him forget. 

He looked at books that were on the shelf. To his surprise, there were no books on the Dark Arts. All of the books were appropriate for Scorpius, and, as an added bonus, books he had never read before. He jumped in excitement and immediately began picking books off the shelf, looking for an interesting one. After a while of searching, he finally decided to pick a random one off the shelf and read it, because there were so many to choose from. He closed his eyes and pulled a book of the shelf. 

But instead of coming out of the shelf, the book came part of the way out before stopping. Scorpius frowned. He opened his eyes and let out a startled yelp. In front of him was a metal basin with a strange silvery substance in it. Scorpius gasped and stumbled back. A pensieve! He hadn’t even known that his Dad owned one! But what was in it? Obviously his dad’s memories, but why would he need one?

He glanced at the book he had tried to take out, which must have activated the pensieve. It was called A Study of Memories: How to Use a Pensieve. Curiosity got the better of him, and he slowly stuck his head into it, and felt himself falling into his father’s memories.


	2. The Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius sees something he wishes he never had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you like this chapter! Thanks for the support!

Scorpius landed in a room that he recognized, only it was darker and more empty. It was his room! So he was at home. But where was everyone? 

“Hello?” Scorpius yelled, before remembering that he was in a memory. No one could hear him. 

Scorpius watched as a young boy of around 8 years old entered the room. The boy looked very familiar to Scorpius, and with a start, he realised that it must be his dad. He had platinum blond hair, identical to Scorpius’s, with a pointed nose and pale skin. Grey eyes, unnaturally cold for a child so young, looked around the room. 

The child was shaking and looked terrified, but he stood up straight, his back stiff. 

Scorpius stared in shock at the small, trembling figure. Was that really his dad? It looked like him, but it was definitely not how Scorpius thought Draco would act as a child. The coldness in his eyes unnerved Scorpius. What was he so afraid of? 

Scorpius got his answer when another person, an adult, walked in. Long blond hair, silky black robes, with a snake fang cane clutched in his hand, Lucius Malfoy walked into the room. His cold gray eyes, filled with an icy fury, landed on his shivering son. 

Scorpius had met his grandfather only once, and it had not been an experience he wanted to repeat. Lucius had yelled at Draco about how he raised Scorpius, but Draco had done nothing to stop Lucius from berating him. Although Scorpius had heard the story of how his dad defied Lucius to marry his mom, he couldn’t believe it at that moment, watching his dad’s grey eyes look everywhere but at his father. Draco had looked weary and worn out, taking the abuse with nothing but a pained expression. Scorpius had been intimidated by Lucius’ cold eyes, which only ever looked at him with disgust, like it was his fault he was raised the way he was. 

Scorpius drew his attention back to the scene in front of him.

“Draco,” Lucius sneered, slowly closing the door behind him. He stepped toward the child, who stepped back as well, hitting the wall. His breathing became faster, and he stared up with wide eyes at his father. Scorpius couldn’t think of this boy as his dad. Scorpius had never seen his dad look afraid before, except for the time he had come to Godric’s Hollow, looking for Albus and Scorpius with Harry Potter and the others. Scorpius would never forget the fear in his dad’s eyes as he looked around for his son, and the overwhelming relief that took over when they saw each other. 

Draco’s whole body began shaking in fear when Lucius advanced. He seemed too afraid to even meet his father’s eyes. Scorpius instantly disliked the man towering over his son. How could he scare his son so much that Draco was too scared to look at his father’s face? Scorpius didn’t understand what was happening, but he had a feeling that it was not going to be good. He didn’t get why Draco looked so afraid. Scorpius knew his grandfather was cruel, by everything he had read in history books. But he had been told by his dad that his grandfather loved him, even though he was not good at showing it. 

Scorpius’s mother had never said anything when it came to her father in law, but she never hid her displeasure at having to deal with Lucius’s sneers and insults every time he and Narcissa visited. Scorpius had always suspected that the only reason she put up with his grandparents was for his dad, who obviously loved them, despite the insults that Lucius hurled at all of them.

“So, Draco,” Lucius drawled, watching his son shiver in fear. “Would you care to explain to me why I saw you playing with the filthy house elf?” Draco cringed.

“I-I was bored, Father,” he said in a shaky voice. He looked devastated at the obvious disappointment in Lucius’s expression.

Lucius sighed. “You were bored,” he repeated flatly. Draco nodded once, lowering his head, seemingly too afraid to even speak. Scorpius felt a burst of anger toward his grandfather. Couldn’t he see that his son was afraid? 

Suddenly, the snake head cane was whipped out and under Draco’s chin, making him gasp, forcing him to look up. Scorpius’s eyes widened in horror. He had always wondered why his grandfather had that cane, when he could walk perfectly fine, and now he had an idea. An idea that he hoped wasn’t right. “Look. Up. At me,” Lucius snarled. 

Draco stood frozen in fear, his back pushed against the wall as if he just wanted to go through it. 

“Sorry, Father,” he said in the same shaky voice as before, looking up with frightened, wide eyes at his father. Lucius pulled the cane out from under his son’s chin, making him stumble. 

“House elves are filthy servants, Draco,” he sneered. “You are acting like a blood traitor for thinking that you are allowed to touch them, let alone play with them,” He raised his hand, and Draco flinched. 

The resounding smack echoed around the room, and Draco fell onto the floor. Scorpius gasped, his hand reaching up to cover his mouth in his shock. It wasn’t a gentle smack, that only stung for a moment and never left a mark, like Scorpius’s dad used to do him when he was younger and misbehaved. It was loud, and it resulted in a bright red mark that contrasted to Draco’s pale skin. Draco slowly put a hand to his cheek, looking up at his father with wide eyes, his body shaking. He was fighting back tears, which made Scorpius’s heart hurt. He didn’t look very surprised at the violent blow, which made Scorpius uneasy. Was it possible that this was a common occurrence in his dad’s childhood?

Lucius sneered down at his son. “Get up, you pathetic child. Acting like a filthy mudblood.” Scorpius couldn’t imagine how much that would hurt a child of 8 years old. His own father calling him pathetic. He looked down at Draco, who had a hurt expression on his face. 

“I think you need to learn a lesson, don’t you, Draco?” Lucius said softly. "Give me your hand." 

Draco hesitated for a moment before holding out his left arm. Lucius took it and held it tightly. 

“This is only to help you, Draco,” he sighed. He lifted his cane and hit in on Draco’s hand. Draco and Scorpius both cried out. 

“NO!” Scorpius cried. Draco whimpered as Lucius raised the cane again. 

“Please, Father!” he sobbed. Scorpius shut his eyes and tried to block out Draco’s cries of pain. How could a father be so cruel to his own son? Tears welled up in Scorpius’ eyes. His heart clenched at every whimper that Draco let out. 

He wanted to do nothing more than to comfort the boy, who was supposed to be his dad. Anger overcame him, anger at the man who would harm a young child. Grandfather or not, this man was evil. Both of Scorpius’s parents had taught him that violence is never the answer, that hurting people is never right. But now, Scorpius was seeing that his dad had been subjected to the very violence he had warned Scorpius away from. 

Guilt came over Scorpius as he remembered the many times he had upset his dad. How many times? He couldn’t even count. Godric’s Hollow had only been one of the most recent times he had disappointed his father. But his dad had never hit him. Sure, his dad had yelled at him and lectured him many times. Maybe a gentle smack now or then, but never anything as extreme and painful as what Scorpius’s grandfather was doing to his dad in this memory. Scorpius suddenly regretted being curious. He would rather be back home, with his dad. 

Draco’s hand was bloodied and crooked, obviously broken. He was sobbing openly, tears falling to the ground.

“I’m sorry, please stop,” he begged. Scorpius’s heart ached. Lucius lowered his cane and took Draco’s hand in his, running his fingers gently over the broken fingers. Draco winced and attempted to pull his hand away, but Lucius didn’t let go. 

“Have you learned your lesson yet?” Lucius asked quietly. 

“Yes, Father,” Draco whimpered. 

"Tell me, Draco. Will you ever disobey me again?" Lucius's voice was soft now. Scorpius frowned at the sudden change in his tone. 

Draco sniffled and shook his head. "No, I won't," he said quietly. Lucius pulled out his wand and Draco flinched back. But Lucius only pointed it at Draco’s hand and flicked it. Draco let out a yelp as a loud snap filled the room, and Scorpius jumped at the noise. When he looked at Draco’s hand, the broken fingers were mended. But the dark bruises were still there, and judging by Draco’s pained expression, they still hurt. Lucius took one last look at his son before turning around and leaving the room. 

As soon as he had left, Draco collapsed to the floor, cradling his hand to his chest and sobbing. 

Scorpius felt tears running down his cheeks, and fell to his knees on the floor. He cried along with the boy lying on the hard ground. Scorpius had never liked violence, watching it or having it happen to him. Watching it happen to a child was worse, and to a child that was supposed to be his dad by his own father just made it triply worse. He hated his grandfather so much, possibly more than anyone he'd ever hated before. 

The scene began to change, and Scorpius found himself in another memory. He hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as the first one.


	3. On the platform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you like this chapter. I might not be updating often because of school finals. ugh. But i'll try my best.

Scorpius landed in a familiar place: Platform 9 and ¾. It was one of his favorite places, second to only Hogwarts, because it meant that it was time for more school, and time to see Albus again. Or, it meant going home and seeing his father again after a long time of being away. 

The platform was crowded, and Scorpius saw some familiar faces, although they looked very young. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were laughing and talking on the platform. They looked around 11 or 12, so it had to be either the end of their first year or the beginning of their second. Scorpius marveled at how small they looked, and how much Harry looked like Albus. But this memory wasn’t about them. It was about his dad. He craned his neck over the adults walking fast him, and looked around for the familiar platinum blond hair that was the most obvious sign of a Malfoy. He saw blond hair and a pale, pointed face, and his mouth dropped open. His dad looked almost exactly like Scorpius had when he was eleven! But his dad was looked much more unfriendly and unapproachable. He was not the kind of kid that Scorpius would have wanted to become friends with. 

Draco seemed to be looking around for someone, and while he was walking around, he didn’t seem to watch where he was going. He walked right into Hermione and Ron, and the two of them glared at him. Harry was nowhere in sight. Maybe he had already left. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Draco snapped, and narrowed his eyes when he saw who he had crashed into. He really was unfriendly, Scorpius thought. No wonder nobody had liked him when he was a student. In fact, nobody liked him much now either, Scorpius realized. 

“You’re the one who bumped into us!” Ron sputtered angrily. Draco glared at him. 

“Well, Weasley, where’s the rest of your family?” he drawled. “Did your parents have to toss out a few of your siblings because they can’t afford to keep them all?” Scorpius gasped. He couldn’t imagine ever saying anything like that to anyone, even his worst enemy. Ron turned red with anger and embarrassment, and he advanced towards Draco. Scorpius saw Draco’s eyes widen with alarm and fear for a split second, and he backed away. 

“Ronald, stop it!” Hermione whispered furiously, grabbing Ron’s arm. “We don’t want to get into any trouble!”  


“He insulted my family! He deserves it!” Ron yelled.  


“What’s wrong? Are you afraid?” Draco taunted, becoming his usual arrogant self now that the imminent threat was gone.  


“Where’s your precious daddy, Malfoy? Is he too superior to do something as useless as picking you up?” Ron glared at Draco. Hermione grinned. Draco flushed. “My Father...” he started angrily. 

But before he could continue, a hand clamped down onto his shoulder. Draco stiffened and instantly fell silent. Scorpius looked up at the cold face of his grandfather. Hatred churned in his chest, and he knew that he would do anything to get his dad away from that cruel man, if only he could. But this was all a memory. It had already happened, and Scorpius was powerless from stopping it. 

“Yes, Draco?” Lucius drawled, looking down at his son. Draco tensed, turning his head slowly towards his father.  


“Do continue. What were you going to say about me?” The gleeful, malicious glint that his dad had in his eyes as he was taunting Ron was gone, replaced with the same fearful, nervous look that he had before, whenever he was around his father. He looked lost at what to say. Just then, Narcissa Malfoy, Scorpius’s grandmother, showed up behind her husband and son. She put a calming hand on Lucius’ shoulder and smiled at her son. That seemed to give Draco courage, and he stood up straight.  


“He was insulting you, Father,” Draco scowled, folding his arms and glaring at Ron. “And I was only trying to defend you from his unfair judgement,”

Lucius nodded at his son approvingly, and Draco's face lit up in happiness. Draco seemed to practically live for his father's approval, Scorpius thought. He seemed as happy at even the simplest acknowledgement. But Scorpius couldn't understand why. How could his dad love someone who was so cruel?  


Lucius then looked down coldly at Ron and Hermione, as if seeing them for the first time. Ron was glaring defiantly, and Hermione's face was cool as she looked at Lucius. 

“You are a Weasley, are you not?” Lucius sneered, looking in disgust at Ron’s hand-me-down robes. Ron turned red.

“Yeah, and what’s wrong with that?” he asked angrily. Lucius only shook his head and turned to Hermione. Narcissi's lip curled as well, and her expression became cold.

“And you are…?” she asked, looking at Hermione. Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but Draco beat her.

"She's a muggleborn, Mother," he sneered. It was strange for Scorpius to think that his dad had actually believed all that nonsense about pure bloods being superior at one point. 

“Muggleborn?” Lucius said with a look of disgust. Now it was Hermione’s turn to glare. 

Scorpius wanted to strangle his grandfather. He was being prejudiced and rude! He turned his head to look at his dad, who was watching the exchange with a cruel smirk on his face. 

“Yeah, I’m Muggleborn. So?” Hermione said loudly. “I’m still one of the top students in the school, and I believe that I’ve even beaten your pureblood son in every subject,” she said proudly. Draco’s eyes widened, and he looked at Hermione in horror and disbelief. As if he couldn’t believe what she had just said, and was hoping that she didn’t actually say it. But it was too late. Scorpius winced at the look in his grandfather’s face when he heard what Hermione said. He didn’t want to see what his grandfather would do to his dad for this. His heart clenched at the look of pure terror in Draco’s eyes. 

Lucius whirled around to look down at his son with dangerous eyes. “Is this true, Draco?” he hissed. Draco froze, looking like he could hardly breathe due to fear.  


“No! No, it-it’s no-not true,” Draco stammered, meeting his father’s furious grey eyes with his frightened ones. Lucius narrowed his eyes at his son.  
He clenched his hand around Draco’s arm, who winced in pain.  


“Come, Narcissa. Draco, we will discuss this at home,” Lucius said, jerking his son forward, towards the platform wall.  


“Ron!” Scorpius saw Ron’s father come forward and put his arm around his son. Ron embraced his dad with a happy smile.  
Draco sent Hermione and Ron a glare full of hatred. A hatred unlike anything Scorpius had ever seen on his dad's face. He even looked jealous while looking at Ron and his father. 

Scorpius could understand being jealous. After his mom had passed away, he tried his hardest not to be jealous of Albus, but he couldn’t help it. Albus had a full family, a mother, father, and two siblings who he claimed annoyed him, but he obviously loved anyways. And Scorpius only had his dad. He loved his dad, and his dad loved him, but Scorpius had always wanted a larger family. Scorpius had always been affectionate person, and his mother had given him that affection until she passed away. Scorpius had been distraught, pushing everyone except for Albus away, including his dad. He would never forget the pained expression on his dad’s face when he yelled about how much he hated him, how it was his fault his mother had died, and ran up to his room, slamming the door. He had apologized later for what he said, but it hadn’t stopped him from feeling guilty. Now, he felt even more guilty, watching this younger version of his dad being dragged by his arm, wincing. His dad was trying to give Scorpius the love and happiness that he had never felt in his childhood, except maybe by his mother. 

Scorpius followed the family through the wall. Draco looked numb, glancing at his father every few seconds to see his expression. But Lucius was emotionless. He held out his hand to his wife, who took it. The three of them apparated away, and Scorpius saw the scene turning black for a moment, before he saw the familiar halls of his house. But it looked so different than it was now that Scorpius almost didn't recognize it. It seemed like his parents had renovated the entire house after his grandparents had moved out. 

The four of them landed in the main sitting room in Malfoy Manor, and Draco almost fell over. Lucius steadied his son with the hand he had clamped onto Draco’s arm, before abruptly releasing it. Narcissa stepped in front of her son, almost protectively.

“Come, Draco,” Lucius ordered. “We have some issues to… discuss.” Draco looked pleadingly at his mother, begging her with his eyes to help him. She hesitated for a few seconds, looking between her husband and her son.

“Lucius, he just got back,” she argued. “You can discuss with him later.” But she sounded unsure of whose side to take. 

“Draco has to learn.” Lucius looked pointedly at Narcissa, who looked down at her son sadly. She left the room without a single glance back. 

“No!” Scorpius gasped. How could she leave her child with this monster? Anger towards his grandparents filled him, and he wanted to go home and hug his dad for having the misfortune of being born to such horrible parents. A mother who loved her husband more than her son, a father who hurt his son in horrible ways, ways that shaped him into the arrogant, rude boy that Scorpius was seeing in the memories.

Draco watched his mother leave with hurt in his eyes, but not surprise. It seemed like this wasn't the first time Narcissa had left her son with Lucius, Scorpius thought sadly. 

Lucius turned to Draco the moment the door shut behind Narcissa. “Draco, is the mudblood girl right? Did a girl from a non-magic family beat you in school?” Lucius asked softly, his snake cane tapping on the floor. Scorpius flinched at the slur. Lucius was saying it so casually, like it was an 

“N-no Father, it’s not true,” Draco protested, watching his father’s every move with fearful eyes. Lucius sighed, tapping his cane faster. Scorpius didn’t want to watch what he knew would happen next.

“And how do I know if you’re telling the truth? You may be trying to get out of your… punishment.” Lucius said, still softly. But the soft tone didn’t seem to help Draco relax. In fact, it seemed to make him even more afraid.

“You know that I am a school governor, Draco,” Lucius continued. Draco nodded slowly, looking on in confusion. Scorpius knew for a fact that school governors had access to all of the school records, including grades. How could a father manipulate his son in such a way?

“I have access to the grades of everyone in the school,” Lucius said calmly, watching the look on his son’s face turn from fearful to terrified. “I am sure that you wouldn’t lie to me; I believe that I’ve taught you better than that. But I would like to check to make sure. Unless, of course, you have anything you want to say to me?”

Draco’s already pale face paled even further, until he looked almost sickly. “Please Father, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie. I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he said quietly.

Lucius sighed once again, and in a sudden movement, the back of his hand connected with Draco’s face. Scorpius had known it was coming, but that didn’t make it any less painful to watch. Draco stood stiffly, his face snapping to the side. He put a hand up to touch the mark. It was as bright red as it was in the first memory, and a bruise was slowly forming. Scorpius looked closely at the mark and gasped. There was a shape, an engraved “M”. In the same font as the Malfoy family ring that his dad had, and a little different from the one that Scorpius had been given right before he went to Hogwarts. The M was bleeding, and Draco winced when he touched it. Scorpius looked at Lucius’s hand, and sure enough, the ring glittered on it. But now it was red, with Draco’s blood smeared on it. It was enough to make Scorpius feel sick. Scorpius looked down at the ring on his finger, the “M” that was engraved on it. He wondered how many secrets were hidden behind the glittering gem, one of them being the pain it had caused his dad.

Lucius slowly lifted his wand out of his cane. So that’s what it’s used for. Scorpius thought numbly. Draco saw the wand and backed into the wall instinctively. His body began to shake, and he closed his eyes. The terrified whimper that escaped him broke Scorpius’s heart. Lucius lifted the wand and pointed it at his son’s face.

“Incompetent boy! You’re a disgrace to the Malfoy name,” Lucius sneered. “A disappointment. Beaten by a mudblood. And not just that, you insult me further by lying to me!”

Scorpius couldn’t bear to look at the devastated look on Draco’s face at his father’s insults.

He felt like crying. Draco obviously loved and trusted his father, and having his father insult him like this clearly hurt him more than any physical blow. Even now, Scorpius could see that his father loved his grandfather, and took all of his insults without any defense. Scorpius had always wondered why. Why his father loved his grandfather so much despite the insults, and why his grandfather was so rude in the first place. Now he had the answer to his second question, but was still confused about the first. He knew he had to figure it out himself, because he couldn’t go ask his dad about a topic this serious. It was obviously something that his dad had kept a secret from everyone for a reason. Right now, watching Draco’s miserable face, all Scorpius wanted to do was go home and hug his dad. 

“Well Draco?” Lucius said softly, twirling his wand between his fingers. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Draco, who was fighting back tears, whimpered. 

“I’m sorry, Father,” he said shakily. Lucius’s lip curled and he muttered “Pathetic,” under his breath. That single word seemed to break something in Draco, and tears began pouring down his cheeks. Scorpius’s heart ached at the sight. Didn’t Lucius see that his son was hurt? He didn’t seem to care.

Lucius still had his wand pointed at his son, and he flicked it carelessly. Draco let out a yelp and fell on the floor, hands and legs twitching. Stinging Hex. Scorpius had felt it once, when in his first year, one of the older bullies who had tormented him and Albus sent it at him, and it had hurt. Not as much as the Cruciatus obviously, but it still stung, until Albus had helped him go to the hospital wing. He didn’t know how long it would sting if the person wasn’t given the antidote, but he suspected it was for a long time.

Lucius looked down at his son on the floor emotionlessly. He put his wand back in his cane and said, “Get up.” 

Draco struggled to his feet, wincing with every movement. It was obvious that the stinging hex was doing its job, because Draco was still twitching, as if trying to shake off the pain. He purposely avoided his father's eyes, looking at the floor instead.

Something in Lucius's eyes seemed to soften when he saw his son's tear stained face, and he sighed heavily. 

"Why must you always anger me, Draco? Why do you make me punish you like this?" he asked softly. He put his hand under Draco's chin and lifted it up gently, so that Draco's eyes met his. He looked almost sad as he looked into his son's eyes.

But that wasn't an excuse to hurt a child! There was never an excuse to hurt a child. Scorpius clenched his fists in anger. If his grandfather had been here in person, he wouldn't have hesitated to hurt him the way he hurt his dad, and the many other people he had tortured and killed from his time as Death Eater.

Fear and confusion filled Draco's eyes as he stared up at his father. "I-I didn't mean to," he mumbled, but Lucius ignored him. He moved his hand to Draco’s cheek, the one with the bruise—the bruise HE had made—and touched it gently. Draco flinched back, and Lucius frowned.

“But you are weak,” he muttered. It seemed almost like he was talking to himself.

“And as your father, it is my job to make you strong.” He let go of Draco and raised his cane.

The sickening noise of the cane hitting skin and the cries of pain that followed made Scorpius wince. Draco was on the ground again, arms reaching up to cover his face, cowering in a ball on the floor. Blood spurted from various injuries all over his body, and Scorpius could not watch anymore without feeling sick and furious. He wanted to scream at Lucius, to beg him to stop, to yell at him until his voice went hoarse. It wasn’t fair. Why was life so cruel to his dad? To give him a horrible father who hurt him, and still make him so desperate to please the man.

He watched as Lucius stopped, the snake head cane coated with Draco’s blood.

He looked down at his son emotionlessly, then left the room without a single look behind. Outside the room, Scorpius saw Narcissa standing there, looking at her broken, beaten son with a devastated expression. But she didn’t do anything. She turned away, and Scorpius could swear that he saw tears in her blue eyes. But that just made him angrier. She was willing to abandon her son when he needed it most? What kind of mother was she? Now Scorpius understood why his mom had hated both of his grandparents, even though Narcissa had always been kind to Scorpius.

Now, as he watched the two adults walk away, and Draco sob, his back against the wall, his face buried between his knees, he wondered how his dad had become such a wonderful father to him when he hadn’t had a good role model. In fact, he had had the worst. He was alone. No one was there to help him. The blood dripped from his clothes, from his face wound. Draco believed he deserved the injuries, for being a failure, for disappointing his father, when all he ever wanted was to make him proud. Scorpius loved his dad, and it hate him to find out that his dad had a horrible childhood, and everyone had believed that he was an arrogant, mean bully, when really he was a product of his upbringing. And there was never a time when Scorpius wished he could be at home, with his dad, more than now.

The scene began to change again, and Scorpius looked around desperately, not wanting to see another painful memory of his dad’s past. But it was too late. He closed his eyes as the scene changed once again.


	4. Boggart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Finals are over and it's summer now so I'm so excited. Finally school is over. So now I have time to write this!! Hope you like this chapter!

Scorpius opened his eyes and looked around. He was in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and there were a few students in it, along with a professor. The professor looked familiar to him, and he looked closely at him. Then he gasped and jumped up excitedly. It was Remus Lupin! He had completely forgotten that the brave werewolf, one of the Fallen Fifty, had once been a professor at Hogwarts, in his dad’s third year and his mom’s first year. He watched in awe as the werewolf walked to the front of the classroom. 

Scorpius looked around and saw his dad in the back of the classroom. He had a sling on his arm, and for a moment Scorpius worried. Was it an injury caused by his father? Then he saw his dad shift his “injured” arm and wink at a burly boy beside him. That was definitely something his dad would actually do, Scorpius thought. He couldn’t help but smile. 

He looked to the front of the room and saw more familiar faces: Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing together, as usual, and he saw a chubby boy that looked a lot like Professor Longbottom standing a little to the side. 

“Alright class!” Lupin yelled. “Today we will be doing a practical lesson. Does anyone know what a boggart is?”  
Hermione raised her hand. She was just like Rose! Scorpius thought. Beautiful, fiery Rose who just wouldn’t admit her love for him…

“...creature that turns into your darkest fear. The only way to defeat it is through laughter,” Hermione answered.  


“Good job Ms. Granger, 10 points to Gryffindor,” Lupin said. “The incantation to defeat a boggart is ‘Riddikulus’. Repeat after me,”  


“This class is Ridiculous,” Draco muttered, rolling his eyes. The Slytherin students beside him began to snicker, whispering “good one, Malfoy”, and Scorpius felt nothing but disgust towards his dad’s so called “friends”. It was so obvious to him that the other Slytherins were sucking up to his dad because of his name. 

Scorpius hadn’t been around to experience it, but he had been told by both his father and grandfather that the Malfoy name used to mean something besides evil. Even in his dad’s time, it used to be respected, and no one had ever dared to go against the Malfoy family in fear of their lives. Scorpius supposed that was also due to the intimidating patriarch at the time, who was someone to be afraid of, even by his own son. Scorpius’s dad could also be scary when he tried to be, but their family name was too damaged now, after being on the wrong side for two wars. 

Still, those Slytherins were trying to get close to Draco because of his riches, his status, and his powerful name. How could they even be called friends if they didn’t even notice that their friend was hurting? 

“Now, who would like to go first?” The class was silent. Obviously, no one was willing to show their worst fear in front of the class. Scorpius noticed his dad especially trying to hide in the back of the room, leaning against the wall farthest away from the closet with the boggart in it. 

“Ok… how about Mr. Longbottom?” Neville turned bright red and stumbled to the front of the room. Scorpius stared in shock. Was this really his favorite professor as a child? He had expected Neville Longbottom, war hero who had killed Voldemort's snake, to have been one of the most popular kids in school, but it seemed like he was more like Scorpius than he had realized. He saw the Slytherins in the back, including his dad, snicker and laugh when Neville almost stumbled and fell. It seemed like Neville was also one of the victims of his dad's bullying. But Professor Longbottom had never treated Scorpius any different than any other student, and Scorpius was grateful for that.

“Neville, what are you most afraid of?” Lupin asked. Neville mumbled something too soft to hear. “I’m sorry, can you say that again?” Lupin said patiently. 

“Professor Snape,” Neville mumbled, a little louder than before. Scorpius’s mouth dropped open. Severus Snape was Neville Longbottom’s worst fear? One of Albus’s namesakes, another hero of the Second Wizarding War? Was he really that bad of a teacher? All of Scorpius’s history knowledge was a lie! He hadn’t seemed that bad in the other world, except for the fact that he hadn’t believed Scorpius at first. But who would have? His story had been pretty far-fetched. 

And his dad and mom had always talked about how Professor Snape had been their favorite professor. Especially his dad, as he had told Scorpius that Snape and his father had been school friends, so they had met very often as Draco was growing up. And Scorpius knew about what his grandmother had done during the war, when his dad had been given the task to kill Dumbledore. She had trusted Snape enough to ask him to protect Draco. But it seemed like he was prejudiced towards the Slytherins, as all the Slytherins were laughing at Neville’s fear, and the people in the other houses looked like they sympathized with him. Draco was laughing the hardest, his good hand holding his stomach as he doubled over.

Lupin chuckled. “Professor Snape? Well, I guess he scares us all sometimes.” Then he leaned down to whisper something in Neville’s ear. Scorpius strained his ears to listen but couldn’t hear. He glanced back at his dad. He was still leaning against the wall, whispering to some of the Slytherins standing around him. The group of them glanced at Neville and began sniggering again. Scorpius didn't know what to feel, seeing his dad bully people. Especially since Scorpius knew all too well how it felt. 

“Alright, remember Neville, the spell is Riddikulus. Ready, set, go!” Lupin unlocked the cabinet, and the intimidating figure of Severus Snape walked out. Neville cowered for a second under his furious gaze, but quickly yelled, “Riddikulus!” Snape’s black robes changed into a green dress with a flower hat to match. He was clutching a handbag. The class roared with laughter, Slytherins included. Scorpius couldn’t help but laugh with them. It really was a funny sight, even though he knew that Snape was a hero of the wizarding war. He glanced back at his dad again, only to see him laughing as well, although he looked a little uncomfortable. 

“Good job, good job! Form a line quickly!” Scorpius heard multiple groans and cries of protest near the back, and saw his dad standing to the side with his arms crossed, smirking. The two burly boys Scorpius had seen before were pushing everyone in the back away, so they could stand in the back. And Draco did stand in the back, the very last person. Scorpius couldn’t help but feel a bit of annoyance. Although he knew what was happening to his dad at home, he still reminded Scorpius of the bullies at school who tormented him and Albus at school. Maybe if his dad had been kinder to people at school, he would've made things easier for Scorpius now. 

The line moved quickly, and it was Harry’s turn. Scorpius was curious as to what Harry Potter was most afraid of. Was it Voldemort? Harry stepped forward, towards the cabinet. He gripped his wand as the boggart slowly turned into a… dementor. Scorpius felt sick staring at the robed figure, and although he was in a memory and he knew that he couldn’t feel the dementor, he still felt cold. The last time he had encountered a dementor had been in the other world, when he was escaping from the dementors with Snape. He felt a pang of sympathy towards Harry, who was staring at the creature in shock. 

Lupin jumped in front of Harry, and the boggart turned into a white orb. Scorpius frowned, before remembering that Lupin was a werewolf. Obviously the moon would be his worst fear. Lupin yelled “Riddikulus!”, and the moon turned into a balloon that flew around the room. Some of the people in the class were laughing, while others looked afraid, glancing at Harry uncomfortably. 

His dad looked delighted, with a cunning glint in his eyes. It was obvious to Scorpius that he was going to use this knowledge to his advantage. Like a true Slytherin, he thought bitterly.

“Class is dismissed!” he yelled. “If you have not yet seen the boggart, stay here with me!”  
Everyone left, except for a handful of Gryffindors, including Hermione, and most of the Slytherins, including Draco.

“Now, we will finish each person as soon as possible, and once you are done, you can leave with your fellow classmates.” Lupin said quickly. “Hermione, how about you go first?” 

Hermione nodded and stepped forward. She raised her wand as Lupin opened the cabinet. What could the current Minister of Magic possibly have to fear? Professor McGonagall stepped out, and Hermione looked confused. She opened her mouth to say something, when McGonagall lifted a piece of parchment up. Hermione gasped and stumbled away. Scorpius moved closer to see what the parchment said. It said “fail”. Scorpius could relate with having a fear like that. Failing his classes would be the worst thing to ever happen to him! 

He heard a snicker from the back of the classroom, and saw his dad covering his mouth to keep from laughing. His dad really was completely different than Scorpius in his school days. In fact, they were almost polar opposites. His dad had been popular and was the bully, while Scorpius was one of the least popular people in the school and was being bullied. He wondered how they were so different in personality when they were so similar in looks. 

Hermione ignored the laugh and looked at Lupin, who sighed. “It’s alright, you still have plenty of time to practice your boggart before the final exam. You may go.” 

Hermione stepped forward stubbornly. “Let me try again Professor, I’ll get it this time!” 

But Lupin shook his head. “There is no time. We have to go to the next person.” Hermione sighed and nodded, walking out of the classroom. 

Everyone else in the class went, all facing their fears, some taking longer than others to turn it into something funny. 

Until there was only one boy left, the boy that Scorpius had suspected would go last. His dad. Draco stepped forward, and Lupin stood near the cabinet, ready to open it.  
“Are you ready, Mr. Malfoy?” He asked. 

“No,” Draco said, scowling and crossing his arms childishly. “I’m not afraid of anything,” Scorpius winced when he realized that was an attempt to leave before having to face the boggart. Lupin looked at the boy, attempting to act patient but failing. 

“There is no choice in the matter. You have to go now, otherwise I will take away 30 points from Slytherin. And this lesson is a mandatory 3rd year lesson to do. So unless you at least attempt it, you will fail this class,” he said firmly. 

Scorpius wondered what his grandfather would do if he found out that his son had failed an entire class. He had punished him horribly when he found out that his grades were worse than Hermione’s. How would he react about something like this? Scorpius shuddered at the thought. He watched as his dad’s face paled, and panic flashed in his eyes. 

“I’m injured,” he drawled, motioning to his “injured” arm. Scorpius was now sure that the injury was a fake, and he wondered why his dad was faking it. Maybe to excuse him from classes? Although Scorpius loved his classes, it seemed like his dad didn't. 

Lupin’s face was slightly irritated now. “You have two arms, don’t you?” he said. Draco only glared at him stubbornly. It seemed like Lupin didn’t fall for the injury either. 

Lupin seemed to see the fear in Draco’s usually stony face and softened. “You don’t have to get it on your first try, Mr. Malfoy. Many of your fellow students didn’t get it either. You have all year until you have to face it again in your exam,”  


“Alright,” Draco sneered. “I’ll do it. Open the cabinet.” 

He gripped his wand, and Scorpius only had a second to wonder what his fear would be before the cabinet opened. Cold grey eyes narrowed down at Draco, who had frozen with shock and fear, his face becoming white. Scorpius had suspected this, seeing the past memories, but he didn’t imagine that a child could fear their own father more than anything else in the world. It hurt him to think that his dad’s worst fear was his own father. 

Lupin looked just as shocked as Draco, and seemed too stunned to move. Draco dropped his wand, and it landed with a clatter on the ground.

“Worthless. Pathetic. Failure. Incompetent,” Lucius hissed, advancing towards his son with every word, with his cane raised. Draco stumbled away, seemingly forgetting that he was in a classroom, and that this wasn’t his actual father. Lucius hissed insulting words, and Draco looked terrified and devastated, his eyes filling with tears. Of course his grandfather would be his dad’s worst fear. He had been raised to fear the man, and obey him or get hurt. That was a horrible way to be raised, and Scorpius was glad that it hadn’t been continued. Immediately after he had that thought, he felt guilty. So it was fine for his dad to have been raised that way, as long as he didn’t do it to Scorpius?  
Scorpius needed no more proof that his dad was a good man, despite all the mistakes he made. 

Draco had backed into the wall, cowering, while the boggart Lucius towered over him, glaring at him with cold eyes. 

It was only when Draco flinched and threw his arms over his face in a weak attempt to protect himself that Lupin finally snapped back into action. He shoved Draco behind him roughly and stood in front of his terrified student, ready to take the blow for him. Scorpius gasped and covered his eyes. But before the cane could land, Lucius disappeared, replaced by the moon, just as before. 

“Riddikulus!” Lupin yelled, and watched as the balloon flew around the room again. He pointed his wand at the cabinet, and it opened. The balloon flew inside and he locked the door quickly. 

Then he turned to look at the student in front of him, and watched him quietly, as if he didn’t know what to say. Scorpius couldn’t blame him. What do you say to someone who was being abused? 

“The boggart is wrong,” Draco said angrily. “My worst fear isn’t my father! It can’t be!”  
Lupin sighed, and his expression was sad. “The boggart cannot be wrong. Why didn’t you tell anyone, Draco?” 

Draco looked taken aback at the casual use of his first name. He scowled, back to looking like the stubborn, arrogant boy he had been before the boggart.

“There’s nothing to tell, Professor,” he sneered. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.” He turned to the door, not even bothering to say bye. Scorpius looked at Lupin. What would he do? 

“Really Draco? Do you have nothing to tell me?” Lupin asked wearily.  
Draco stopped and turned around. “This is none of your business! I said I didn’t want to do the boggart, but you forced me! This is your fault!” he yelled.

Lupin touched Draco’s shoulder gently, making him stiffen. “Draco, your father is a cruel man, and-” 

“Don’t you dare insult my father! He's a better man than you'll ever be,” Draco snapped. Scorpius gasped. For a moment Scorpius thought he was going to whip his wand out and curse Lupin. Instead, he grabbed his wand and walked towards the door. Then he paused for a moment and turned toward Lupin.

“I would really appreciate it if you don’t mention what happened here to anyone,” Draco added. Scorpius didn’t miss the underlying fear in his voice, of what his father would do if he found out that he was his son’s worst fear, and that other people knew about what was obviously supposed to be a secret. 

Lupin obviously didn’t miss it either. He watched Draco leave with a helpless expression, looking like he wanted to call him back, but not knowing what to say.


	5. Draco's Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finds out his son is missing... again.

Draco Malfoy entered his house from the Floo, and brushed off his robes to make sure they were perfect and dust free. He straightened his spine like he was taught to do and walked out of the fireplace, looking dignified. But then he felt silly. It was his own house, no one was there to say anything to him. He supposed it was a left over instinct from when he was a child, being told to stand up straight every time he accidentally slouched. 

His life had been extra busy ever since he had been offered a job at the Ministry, after the fiasco with the time turner. He had almost refused, because he had wanted to spend more time with his son. But Scorpius had said he should take it, because it would be good for him. So Draco had decided to try it out, and it turned out that Scorpius was right, as usual. The job helped Draco distract himself from his loneliness when Scorpius wasn’t around, and it was helping him slowly gain back a good reputation for the Malfoy name. It was slow but satisfying work. And it helped that the job was only part time, because Draco still wanted to spend time with Scorpius. 

He had thought that he would hate it, because he had never wanted to have a Ministry job, but it was slowly helping him out of the shell he had built around himself since Astoria’s death. He tried to ignore the pain that came with thinking about her. She was probably the only person who had known everything about him, flaws and all, and still loved him. She was also the first person who he had confided with all of his secrets, and instead of leaving him, she had held him and comforting him while he had cried. She was the only person who had ever done that for him. He missed her so much it physically hurt him. He remembered that after he had proposed to her, he had asked her if she was sure she wanted to marry him. The Malfoy name was considered evil, and if she married him, she would lose her own reputation. But she hadn’t cared. She had insisted. And he wanted her back so badly now. 

He knew that it had been hard for Scorpius after Astoria's passing as well. His precious son. The son with which he would never make the same mistakes his father had made with him. But as much as he tried to make up for the loss, he knew that he could never replace Astoria. 

Draco walked into the kitchen and called out “Tiffy!” A female house elf walked in.  


“Yes, Master Malfoy?” Tiffy asked, bowing her head so low it reached the floor. Draco couldn’t help but smile. His father had always hated house elves, calling them filthy, but Draco had always been fascinated with the little creatures. Although he had never understood Hermione’s SPEW club at school. The house elves WANTED to be enslaved. Couldn’t she see that? Any respectable pureblood would…  


No, Draco told himself. It was hard to force himself to stop thinking the way his parents, especially his father, had drilled into him from the moment he could understand words. He tried not to dwell into thoughts of his childhood, and instead turned to Tiffy.  


“Please call Scorpius down, and then get some dinner for both of us,” Draco said uncomfortably. He tried to be polite to house elves now, but it was so strange for him. 

Tiffy bowed again and said, “Yes, Master Malfoy.” She snapped her fingers and with a loud crack, disapperated. Draco made his way into the sitting room and fell onto the couch. Although it was only 7, Draco felt exhausted and just wanted to sleep. He rubbed his eyes and waited for Scorpius to come down. 

“Master! Master!” Draco jerked awake at the sound of Tiffy. He yawned and sat up on the couch. He hadn’t even noticed when he had fallen asleep. “Yes Tiffy? What time is it?”  
The house elf looked nervous. “It’s 11:00 pm, sir.” 11? He had been asleep for 4 hours! 

“Has Scorpius eaten yet?” Draco felt a little betrayed that his son hadn’t even bothered to wake him up. Tiffy’s lip quivered, and she let out a wail, right next to Draco’s ear. He flinched in surprise and jumped up.  


“Tiffy is sorry! Tiffy doesn’t know!” Tiffy wailed, and she grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a lamp, and started hitting herself with it. Draco grabbed her arms.

“Stop!” Immediately, the elf froze and dropped the lamp, which shattered into pieces. Draco picked up his wand and pointed it at the lamp, which began repairing itself. Then he turned toward Tiffy, who looked terrified. Draco didn’t want the house elves to be afraid of him, like they had been afraid of his father. He felt a little hurt that even after all these years of living with him, Tiffy still thought he would punish her the way his father had. But he had been horrible to her as a child, he thought guiltily.  


“It’s alright, Tiffy, just tell me what’s wrong,” Draco said as soothingly as he could.  


“Master Scorpius is missing! Tiffy doesn’t know where he is!” Tiffy fell to the ground, sobbing.

“What do you mean? He’s gone?” Draco asked, panic flaring through his chest. Not again! This couldn’t be happening. The last time his son had gone missing, he and Potter's son had almost brought back the Dark Lord! He really hoped that wasn’t the case now. For a moment, he wondered if Scorpius had left the house. But he was grounded, and Draco knew that even though his son complained about his punishment, he wouldn’t disobey Draco.  


Draco looked down at the elf. “Are you sure you looked everywhere?” he asked urgently. Tiffy nodded.  


Draco immediately turned to run up the stairs. “Scorpius!” he called. He looked through every room until he got to his own room. The door was slightly ajar, and Draco frowned. He always kept the door closed. Someone must have opened it without him knowing. His immediate thought was Tiffy, but he remembered ordering her to never go in there. She wouldn’t be able to because he had forbade her. That left only one person.  


Scorpius wouldn’t go in there, Draco thought. He knew better than to do that. But he pushed open the door anyways.  
The room used to be his study, but Draco had turned it into his room after Astoria’s death. It had been too painful for him to sleep in the bed without her right beside him. They were many other empty rooms in the Manor, but all of those had been empty for years, even during his childhood. He didn’t even know how long it had been since they had been used. He had used a couple of them as playrooms when he had been a child, and later for Scorpius, but now they were empty and lonely. It would’ve been strange for him to use them now. But even when this had been his study, Scorpius had always been forbidden from going in.

His room was as orderly as usual. Nothing was out of place, and Draco was glad about that. His room had items he would never want Scorpius to know about. And if Scorpius was here, there was only one reason he would’ve been: to read books. He hoped he wasn’t right. He hoped that he and Astoria had taught their son better than to go snooping in other people’s private places, especially his own father’s.

Anger began to fill him, anger at his son for worrying him once again, for never caring about his father’s feelings when he just disappeared. Draco had always strove to please his father, and cared too much about his feelings. In a way, Draco realized, he and Scorpius were complete opposites. Draco had tried to please the father who was always disappointed, while Scorpius never cared about Draco’s feelings. Draco had tried to please his father, but always failed. His father's disappointment in him had only grown after he had married Astoria. He was pretty sure that his father wouldn't have even shown up at the wedding if his mother hadn't forced him. 

On the other hand, Scorpius never listened to Draco and didn’t seem to care about him. That also hurt Draco, because he was trying his best to be a better father than the one he had. Ever since his mother’s death, Scorpius had become distant, doing things he never would’ve done when Astoria was alive. Admittedly, Draco had never been the most affectionate father either. He could never figure out how to talk to his son. But Draco still loved Scorpius, more than anything. 

He walked to the bookshelf and looked at it thoughtfully. There was something, he knew. Something that would’ve made Scorpius disappear. Then he remembered. The Pensieve. Draco had made that sometime after the war, when he was being torn apart by memories of his childhood and of the war. He winced, remembering the hatred that everyone had for him, and how alone and worthless he had felt. How he still felt that way at times. There had been a time when he had even considered killing himself, feeling like no one in the world would miss him anyways.  


He loved his parents, but they had never been the type of people he could go to with his problems. Especially his father. He probably would’ve gotten angry at Draco for being so weak. He knew that his mother would’ve been devastated if he had died, but his father probably would’ve been glad. Glad that his useless, pathetic excuse of a son was finally gone. 

That had been a difficult time in his life, before he had met Astoria. He had read in a book that putting memories in a pensieve dulls them a little, and although they would still be in your mind, they would be harder to remember, and definitely much easier to cope with. So he had dumped all of his traumatic memories into the pensieve. He knew that was not the right way to heal himself from his experiences, but it was certainly easier. And Draco Malfoy always went for the easier way. 

This was one of the only things he had not told Astoria. He had even told her about his father hurting him when he disappointed him. Astoria had been furious at his father and tried to convince him that he didn’t deserve the “abuse”, as she called it. Which he had never understood. There was a big difference between abuse and discipline, which was what his father had done. Although Draco would never dream of hurting his son in the way his father had done to him, he didn’t see anything wrong with his idea of discipline. He now realized that the techniques used for parenting depended on the parent, and his father had done what he thought was right. 

However, these memories were definitely not ones he would want a child to look at, especially his own son. Draco touched the book called A Study of Memories: How to Use a Pensieve. The pensieve came out, a large bowl with silvery liquid floating around in it. Draco looked at it. Did he really have the strength to experience his worst memories once again? He knew that once he entered the pensieve, all the memories would become clear in his head, and that he would be left to deal with his worst memories going from dull to completely clear. He would go back to being how he had been right after the war, broken down by the trauma. 

He remembered waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, screaming into the darkness, with no one there to comfort him. Sometimes, his mother would come in to comfort him. His father never came. But in the morning at breakfast, his father would give him strange looks, and Draco knew that he always heard the screams. 

He shivered at the memory. Now, with Astoria gone and his parents living in a different house, there would be nobody at all. After he had met her, she had always been there to pull him close when he woke up, screaming like a child. She would hold his shivering, trembling body, whispering words of comfort into his ear. He would eventually calm down, listening to her heart beat rhythmically as he lay against her chest. 

Draco knew that he was a coward, and that he would always run away from his problems. But Draco Malfoy would also do anything for his son, even if he was angry at him. And he knew that Scorpius would not be able to come out unless the memories ended, or the owner of the memories came to get him. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath, and put his head into the liquid. The world around him slowly fade away as he fell down, into whichever memory Scorpius happened to be in.


	6. A New Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Scorpius see his dad soon? And if he does, what should he say? After all, they haven't talked about emotional issues like this in... forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soon sorry I haven't been updating. You know how I said I'd have more time in the summer? Nope. SAT prep is killing me. Hope you like this chapter!

Scorpius saw many more of his dad’s memories: the time he had been punched by Hermione, the time he had been turned into a ferret, and when he joined the Inquisitorial Squad in his fifth year in order to get revenge on the three Gryffindors he hated so much. Honestly, Scorpius thought that his dad deserved the punch from Hermione. He had been a cruel person as a child, especially to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But being turned into a ferret by a teacher? That was too extreme. He saw many more times of his dad being hurt by Lucius Malfoy’s cruel abuse, and his heart ached. Scorpius was glad when his grandfather was put into Azkaban, even if his dad was devastated. And he would never wish that fate on anyone. But none of those memories could have prepared him for what he saw happen to his dad in his sixth year, and in the war. 

He watched as his dad got the dark mark, thinking it would finally make his father proud and his family honored by Voldemort. But what really scared him was how proud his dad looked, how he truly believed that being a Death Eater was the right thing to do. Scorpius knew that now, his dad regretted being a Death Eater more than anything else in his life. But back then, he had actually wanted it? 

Scorpius had seen the dark wizard fleetingly when in Godric’s Hollow, but he had never imagined how terrifying he would be in person. Even looking at him from a memory made him shiver. He watched the dark mark be seared into his dad’s flesh. It was burned onto his arm with Voldemort's wand, and Draco's screams of agony echoed around the room. Scorpius winced at the noise, and wondered if that was how he had sounded when under the Cruciatus curse. 

And his dad had only been 16. A year older than Scorpius was right now. He couldn’t imagine anything like this happening to him. Having the fate of his entire family rest on his shoulders, and knowing that if he failed, everyone he loved would die. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he took the dark mark, Scorpius thought. 

Scorpius suddenly remembered what he had said to his dad in the other world, that he was nothing but a torturer and murderer. He felt so guilty now for ever thinking that. Because even if his real dad didn’t know what Scorpius had told him in the other world, Scorpius had actually believed it. Now, watching his dad as a teenager Scorpius’s age go through things that even adults shouldn’t go through made Scorpius realize that his dad was really a good person, who just had the horrible luck of being raised on the wrong side of the war. 

Scorpius grimaced when he saw his dad laying his head on the lap of a girl he'd never seen before, on the Hogwarts Express. It was strange to think that his dad had had girlfriends before marrying his mom. But now that he thought about it, of course he had. His dad was the complete opposite of Scorpius: he was popular, handsome, and confident. He had been the bully, unlike Scorpius, who was always the one being bullied. He watched his dad take his revenge on Harry by stomping on his nose, pure hatred in his eyes. "This is for my father," he snarled, throwing Harry's invisibility cloak over him and walking out of the compartment calmly. Scorpius was shocked by the loathing in his eyes. He had never seen that expression on his dad, and seeing it now made him shiver. Draco could be scary when he wanted to be.

He watched his dad’s pitiful first two attempts at completing his task. He had almost killed a girl, Katie Bell, and had accidentally poisoned Ron Weasley. His dad had almost killed two innocent human beings. The thought was enough to make Scorpius sick, as he remembered the flash of green light and the vacant eyes of Craig Bowker Jr. That guilt would never leave him. 

Scorpius had always known what his dad had almost done in his sixth year, both from history books and his mother’s explanations. The first and only time Scorpius had asked his dad about the war, he had looked away with an almost pained expression, gray eyes staring off into the distance. He had mumbled some excuse and left the room. Scorpius had been confused then, wondering why his father wasn’t answering his question. But now he understood how difficult it was to talk about painful memories. 

Scorpius had never known about the toll the stressful task took on his dad, watching helplessly as he slowly became unhealthily thin and pale, dark shadows under his eyes, skipping meals and crying in the girl’s bathroom, with Moaning Myrtle as his only companion. He now understood what Myrtle had meant when she had said that she had been “moderately partial” to a Malfoy, right before he and Albus had gone back in time the second time. She had tried to comfort his dad when he was crying. Scorpius had always thought of Myrtle as annoying (even if he’d never tell her), but now, watching her attempting to comfort his dad, he felt guilty. He was feeling guilty about a lot of things now. 

Scorpius watched in devastation as his dad made another one of his trips to the girl’s bathroom, gripping the edge of the sink tightly, like it was the only thing keeping him stable. Scorpius wished he could do something, anything, to help. He was watching his own dad slowly break into pieces in front of him, and he could only watch.  


“Don’t… Tell me what’s wrong. I can help you.” Myrtle pleaded with Draco.  


“No one can help me,” he cried, his entire body shaking. Scorpius wanted to comfort him. He wished so badly that he could be there to help him. 

“I can’t… I can’t do it.” He let out a sob. Suddenly, he whirled around, and Scorpius was startled. For a moment, he panicked, thinking that his dad was looking right at him. Then he realized it was something behind him. He turned around to see what his dad was looking at.  


It was Harry Potter, and he was standing near the door, hand near his wand by instinct. He looked shocked at seeing his school enemy crying.  
Scorpius looked at his dad, and saw the obvious desperation in his eyes. He stood up and pointed his wand at Harry. Harry dodged the jinx and sent his own one back. Scorpius gasped.  


It was so strange for him to be seeing his best friend’s dad and his dad fighting each other. He and Albus looked so much like their fathers, it almost looked like he was watching himself and his best friend fighting. And that was not something Scorpius wanted to watch. But he couldn’t help it. He was unable to tear his gaze away from the two dueling boys. 

Draco gasped, choking back a sob. “Cruci-” he cried, his voice breaking, and Scorpius gasped. His dad was going to cast the Cruciatus curse on Harry Potter! He shuddered when he remembered how horrible the curse had been. He couldn't believe that his dad could actually hurt another person so horribly. But it was likely that he had. Even if not here, later in the war. 

But before Draco could finish, Harry waved his wand wildly and yelled “Sectumsempra!”  


Scorpius cried out when his dad stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, blood coming out of various cuts all over his body, that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was like an invisible sword had stabbed him in multiple places. Scorpius and Harry both ran toward the fallen boy. Harry dropped to his knees in front of him, rambling.  


“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” He kept repeating, trying to cover up the cuts on Draco’s body. It seemed like he hadn't known what the curse would do. The whimpers that his dad let out made Scorpius's heart hurt. He fell to the ground as well, hand covering his mouth at the amount of blood on the floor, mixed in with water flooding from the taps. He knew that his dad survived- obviously, or else he wouldn't be here. But how did he survive?  


Draco’s whimpers were cut off by Moaning Myrtle, who screamed, “Murder! Murder in the bathroom!” 

“Scorpius!” Scorpius jumped in shock and whirled around, heart pounding at the thought that someone in the memory could see him.  
But it wasn’t anyone in the memory. His dad stood behind him, relief flooding his features. Scorpius stared in astonishment. How did his dad know where he was? But that didn’t matter now. He was here. “Dad!” Scorpius yelled, running forward. He threw his arms around his dad and squeezed tightly, burying his head in his dad’s robes.  


“I love you Dad, and I’m sorry for what Grandfather did to you, he’s evil, I hate him so much, and I missed you, and…” Scorpius knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t help it. It happened whenever he got very emotional, and now he was so happy to see his dad. He felt his dad stiffen and clear his throat uncomfortably, but he still put his arms around Scorpius awkwardly.  


“Scorpius,” he muttered. Scorpius could hear the relief in his voice, and that made him clutch his dad tighter, afraid that if he let him go he wouldn’t be there anymore. 

He heard Moaning Myrtle’s screams stop and turned to watch the memory, still clutching his dad’s arms. He didn’t want to let go.  
Scorpius saw Snape enter the bathroom. Upon seeing Draco’s bleeding figure, his eyes widened and he ran forward, shooting a glare at Harry before leaning over Draco. Scorpius glanced up at his dad, wondering how he was coping with this, reliving one of his worst memories. His dad was watching almost in a daze. 

Snape began to murmur something, almost like a song, and waved his wand over Draco. The cuts on his body began to heal, and his whimpers died down.  


“You may have some scarring, but if we get to the hospital wing soon enough, we may be able to avoid even that,” Snape said, more gently that Scorpius had ever heard him talk.  


“And you,” Snape glared at Harry. “Stay here and wait for me to come back. Don’t you dare move.” Harry nodded quickly. The two of them walked out, Snape mostly supporting Draco’s thin frame. 

“Let’s go now, Scorpius,” his dad said softly. Scorpius nodded. He was ready to leave.  
Scorpius felt himself lifting up out of the memories, back into the real world.  


They landed back in his dad’s bedroom, and there was a long moment of silence. Scorpius didn’t know what to say now that they were out, even though he had so much he wanted to say. His dad sat down on the chair beside the bed shakily, and Scorpius noticed that his hands were trembling. Scorpius suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty. It was his fault that his dad had gone into the pensieve, with all of his worst memories in it. 

“I never heard what he said,” Scorpius’s dad said slowly. Scorpius frowned. “What?” he asked, confused.  
“Snape.” His dad let out a shuddering breath, then started talking again. Scorpius could see how hard it was for him to open up to something this emotional. Even if it was to someone he cared about and who cared about him. So he gave his full attention to his dad, determined to make the most of this rare show of emotion. 

“After Pot-Harry,” he corrected. “After Harry put that curse on me, I was faint with blood loss. I couldn’t hear anything. My eyesight was becoming dark, and there was so much pain.” He was shaking violently now, Scorpius realized. It was strange for him to see his normally cool and composed dad so shaky. 

“Dad, if you don’t want to tell me, it’s ok,” Scorpius said gently. He sat down on the edge of the bed, next to his dad. His dad turned toward him, and Scorpius was startled at the amount of raw emotion in his eyes, the anguish. His eyes were glassy, and Scorpius realized in horror that tears were forming in his eyes. He had never seen his dad cry before. He reached out to comfort his dad. 

His dad stood up abruptly, pointedly looking away from Scorpius, ignoring his son’s hurt look. 

“It’s late. We should sleep now.” When Scorpius didn’t move, he raised his eyebrows.  


“Scorpius, it’s time for you to sleep now,” he said firmly, looking at the clock on the wall. Scorpius followed his gaze and his mouth dropped open. 12 AM! He had been in the memories for hours! He hadn’t realized that they were so long, even though he had seen a majority of his dad’s childhood and sixth year. He was suddenly glad he hadn’t seen the actual war. The history books were horrifying enough. 

He glanced at his dad, who still had his eyebrows raised, waiting for Scorpius to leave. He was obviously trying to stay patient, but Scorpius could tell that it was wavering. Scorpius wondered if he should stay and talk to his dad for longer. He remembered the weeks after Godric’s Hollow, when he would wake up screaming and in tears from nightmares in the middle of the night. His dad would always come in, no matter what time it was or how tired he was. He would hold Scorpius close and comfort him as he cried. When Scorpius had told his dad about Delphi using the Cruciatus on him, he had never seen his dad so angry. And now, Scorpius wanted to return the favor. He wanted to help his dad. 

He also knew that talking about your experiences really did help. Scorpius had done that with his dad and Albus, after his mother had died and after the time turner incident.  


“Dad, I’m not leaving. You need someone to talk to about this,” Scorpius said strongly, trying to discern his dad’s expression. 

“Scorpius, you will leave now,” his dad warned, stepping forward threateningly. Scorpius winced at the harsh tone. His dad never talked to him like this. Scorpius went closer to his dad cautiously and touched his arm, making him flinch once again.  


Draco’s head jerked up and he glared at his son, who let go of his arm in shock. His normally cool grey eyes were red and wild with fury, and that alone made Scorpius slightly afraid.  


“This is all your fault!” he yelled, suddenly enraged. Scorpius jumped in surprise, staring at his dad.  


“If you hadn’t come in here without my permission, none of this would be happening!” He yelled, standing up tall. Scorpius had never realized how scarily alike his dad was to his grandfather when angered. But what was he talking about? What happened to make him so angry? Was it because Scorpius had invaded in his privacy? Although his dad was a private person, that didn’t sound like something he would get this furious about.  


“What are you talking about?” Scorpius asked in confusion. Draco’s temper snapped. 

His hand lashed out, backhanding his son across the face. Pain flashed in Scorpius’s vision, and he stared in horror at his father, feeling the wound sting. His eyes began to tear up as he slowly touched the mark, which was beginning to swell. His dad had just hit him. Hard enough to make a bruise. His dad stared at him as all anger suddenly left from his face, the flush of anger in his cheeks fading. He seemed to realize what he had just done to his son. Scorpius didn’t know what to do as his dad’s expression changed to horror as well. 

“Scorpius-” he pleaded, his voice heavy with guilt. Scorpius only shook his head, tears pouring down as he turned around and ran out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is devastated and believes that his son hates him. What will he do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I honestly can't think of a name for this chapter cause i suck at stuff like that. Thank you to everyone who commented on my story. i really appreciate the support. Hope you like this chapter!

Draco could only watch as his son turned to run away. He was a failure. He had failed his father by being a horrible son, failed Astoria by not taking care of his son the best he could, and failed Scorpius by hurting him. He had vowed never to hurt his son the way he had been hurt, because the memories of loneliness and pain, of feeling worthless and hated, still haunted him.  


He needed Astoria back more than ever. She would have known what to do. She would have been angry at him for what he had done to Scorpius, but he knew that she would have forgiven him after she saw how guilty and heartbroken he was. She always understood. He felt so lonely. He had no one left in the world. The tears finally fell, and he let out a sob. He would do anything, anything at all to have her back beside him. 

Now that he had gone into the pensieve, the memories were as strong as they were after the war, when he had locked them away. He couldn’t push the memories away like he had done before, and they haunted him. Images of death, destruction, torture, his task, his father’s punishments, and the war plagued him, and he shivered, feeling a sudden chill in the room. He had known that this would happen eventually, that he had to face his past sometime. But he had hoped it would be a long, long time from now, when his son was married and had a child of his own. 

He remembered the torture he had faced after his failure to kill Dumbledore, and after he and his family had failed to keep Harry and his friends from escaping their home. He had almost been tortured to insanity with the Cruciatus, and his parents had been forced to watch. Hearing his mother scream and beg the Dark Lord to stop torturing him almost hurt as much as the curse did.

He began to shake as he remembered Bellatrix’s idea of a punishment, when he had failed to learn Occlumency after a few lessons. For weeks after that, he had been unable to stop trembling and jumped at sudden noises. It disgusted him to even think that she was his aunt. He never thought he could say that someone had more sadistic punishments than the Dark Lord and his father, but Bellatrix was by far the worst. And he could say with experience of all three. 

Draco had long given up on healing himself, because all that mattered was the people he loved. Besides, he wasn’t worth healing. But his son still had a bright future ahead of him, and Draco didn’t want to lose him. He got up and made his way out of the room, determined to find his son and beg for his forgiveness. He hoped so badly that Scorpius would find it in his heart to forgive him. Because Draco Malfoy didn’t know how he would live if his son refused to forgive him. But then he stopped. Did he even deserve his son’s forgiveness? No, he didn’t. 

He looked down at the dark mark on his arm, the mark that would forever remind him of the mistakes he had made, of how stupid he had been. It was faded away now, only a scar.  


He hated himself, so much. Self hatred churned in his chest, and he stumbled down the stairs, almost tripping and crashing to the floor below. He staggered into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, sinking to his knees. Tears blinded his vision. 

He deserved to die. He was pathetic. He was a disappointment to everyone he had ever loved. He had heard it so many times, from his father, from the Dark Lord, from all the newspapers that had come out after the war. Random people he didn’t even know would come up to him whenever he was in public and say that he should’ve died instead of their various loved ones. He didn’t know them, but everyone knew him. 

They knew him as the pathetic Death Eater who should’ve just died in the war. As the evil person who was so desperate for an heir that he willingly sent his own wife back to time to have a child with Voldemort. When Draco had first heard about that rumor, he hadn't known if he should laugh or get angry. He couldn’t believe that anyone thought of him as so cruel that he would do that. But maybe they were right. Maybe he was cruel. After all, he had tortured people in the war, he had almost killed Dumbledore, and now he had hurt his only son. 

He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t deal with the memories and his own hatred. And now, one person he loved was gone forever, and the other would hate him. With a gasp, he drove the knife into the black skin on his left arm. The skin tainted with evil. He was tainted with evil.  
Blood sprung out immediately, and he cut over his dark mark, trying to cover his horrible decision with his knife. He couldn’t feel anything but numbness. He frowned. He had always known that he didn’t have a great tolerance for pain, from both his father and his own stupid school experiences. Those school days seemed so far away now as he thought about how ignorant he had been as a child, bullying people he believed he was superior to and showing off his wealth and status, when none of that actually mattered.  


Why wasn’t he feeling anything? Desperate now, he plunged the knife deeper, and the pain he was so desperate to feel blinded him. His vision went dark as he felt himself dropping the knife and falling to the ground. 

Scorpius’s POV  


Scorpius ran downstairs blindly, tears blurring his vision. The bruise still stung, but it didn’t hurt as much as the realization that his dad had hit him. But this time, Scorpius knew he deserved his dad’s anger. He had gone into his room without permission, and had ventured into his most private, painful memories. Memories that he would have kept private from Scorpius, had he not intruded on them. But he didn’t understand why his dad would hit him. Was he so traumatized from seeing his bad memories again that he took it out on Scorpius? He didn’t know.  


Scorpius found himself in front of the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace, yelling out the first place that came to mind. “Harry Potter’s house!” 

He came out, choking and gasping for breath, tears cleaning the soot off his face. It was dark, obviously everyone was asleep. After all, it was the middle of the night. The Potters had connected their Floo Network with Malfoy Manor, since they knew how often Scorpius and Albus liked to hang out, especially over the summer. Although technically, Scorpius wasn’t allowed to be here because he was grounded… 

Why was he even here? He suddenly regretted coming here. He considered going back, but suddenly, a light turned on, temporarily blinding him. He was caught. He squinted into the light to a see a surprised Lily Potter gaping at him. He sighed, grateful that if any Potter besides Albus was the one to find him, it was Lily. He had always liked Lily, because she was kind to him and never bullied him like the others did. The one he would’ve least liked to see was James. 

Lily frowned at him.  


“What are you doing here?” she asked. Then she noticed his red rimmed eyes, and the tear stains on his face. The bruise that was on his face. She gasped.  


“What happened?” she whispered worriedly. Before Scorpius could answer, she continued. “No, wait here; I’ll go call my parents.”  


“No!” Scorpius knew that if Mr. and Mrs. Potter came down and saw the bruise, they would force Scorpius to tell them where it came from. And Scorpius did not want them to assume the worst, that his dad abused him. 

Lily stared at him, and Scorpius realized his mistake. He had yelled the word, probably loud enough to wake the entire house. He wanted to hit himself for being so stupid.  


The lights upstairs turned on, and the remaining Potters descended the stairs, still in their pajamas. Luckily, James didn’t seem to be around. Scorpius saw the familiar figure of Albus, looking groggy and irritated. But when he saw Scorpius, his face became delighted. 

“Scorpius!” he yelled, running forward to pull him into a hug. Scorpius felt tears trickle down his cheeks, now that Albus was here. Albus saw his tears and the bruise and gasped.  


“What happened?” he asked, gently reaching up a hand to touch the bruise. Scorpius flinched and he quickly pulled it away.  


“Scorpius?” Harry Potter asked. “What happened? Why are you here so late?” 

Ginny covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God,” she whispered, catching sight of the bruise on Scorpius’s face. She immediately pulled out her wand and pointed it at Scorpius. He felt the pain begin to fade, but when he touched his cheek, the bruise was still there.  


Harry was looking at Scorpius in horror. “Who did that to you?” he asked gently.  
Scorpius looked at them. “He didn’t mean to!” he said defensively. He watched the looks on their faces turn from surprise to horror and disbelief.  


“Was it… your dad?” Harry asked cautiously. Scorpius remained silent.  
He seemed to take Scorpius’s silence as a yes. 

“The slimy little ferret!” Harry looked so angry that Scorpius almost took a step back. Ginny’s jaw was clenched in anger, and Albus looked furious as well. Ever since the Delphi incident, when Albus had told his parents that Scorpius shouldn’t be blamed and that he had been tortured, the Potter family had treated him like an extension of their own family. And they were very protective over him, in a way that seemed to run through the Potter family. And that was why Harry marched over to the Floo and grabbed a handful of powder, ignoring Scorpius’s protests.  


“Malfoy Manor!” he yelled, disappearing into the floo. Scorpius groaned and followed, hearing Albus begging to be allowed to go with him, but Ginny firmly saying no.

Harry’s POV  


Harry was so full of rage he could hardly breath. How dare Malfoy hurt his son? That was abuse! He stumbled out of the fireplace, into the elegant sitting room of Malfoy Manor. Draco Malfoy was nowhere in sight, but a house elf was standing wide eyed in front of Harry.  


“Where’s Malfoy?” Harry asked, looking around angrily. The house elf stared at him.  


“I’ll go get Master Malfoy.” She snapped her fingers and apparated out of the room. Harry took a deep breath, struggling to calm himself. 

“Mr. Potter!” Harry heard a shout coming out of the floo. He turned to see Scorpius stumbling out. Scorpius immediately ran up to Harry.  


“Mr. Potter, don’t blame my dad, it wasn’t his fault, he’s never done it before, it was my fault, I snuck into his room and found-.” Then he went silent, as though he didn’t want to say what he found.  


Harry frowned at him and relaxed a little. He knew he was making a big deal out of something that Scorpius obviously didn’t want to make a big deal. But he couldn’t help it. Harry was strongly against hurting children, mostly because of his own childhood. Although the Dursleys hadn’t exactly “abused” him, they had neglected him, and Dudley had beat him up on a few occasions. He was not in the least afraid of them, and never had been, but they had left their mark on him. 

But Harry had seen the way Draco looked at his son. With love and affection, a look unfamiliar on his normally stoic face. He remembered the look of pure fear on Draco’s face when he had discovered that his son was missing. He obviously loved him more than anything. So why would he ever hurt his son on purpose? 

He looked at Scorpius’s pleading face and decided to believe him. But he still wanted to ask Draco why he had done it. He couldn’t imagine any reason Draco would do that to the son he loved so much. 

A high pitched scream came from the room next door, and Harry jumped. He felt a chill creep down his spine.  


“Tiffy!” Scorpius cried, running out of the room. The elf! Harry followed behind Scorpius and froze in horror at the sight in front of him. The elf was sobbing next to a body on the floor.  


“Dad,” Scorpius choked, falling to his knees before the unnaturally still figure of Draco Malfoy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius and Harry see Draco's body. What are they going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for all the support I've gotten through your comments! Hahaha I love leaving cliffhangers so there may be more coming up!!!  
> Hope you like this chapter!

Scorpius felt sick at the sight in front of him. His dad, with blood coming out of a huge cut on his wrist. His dark mark, Scorpius realized vaguely. His dad couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t. He felt himself fall to his knees.  
He grabbed the still body, begging him to wake up. His mind was racing. 

Harry was frozen, but then he snapped out of it and immediately took control. He gently pulled Scorpius’s body off of his dad’s and only then Scorpius began to cry. He watched as Harry carefully put a hand on Draco's neck, checking his pulse. Scorpius held his breath, and Harry let out a sigh of relief.  


“He’s still alive.” Those words made Scorpius cry even more, only out of relief now. He collapsed onto the ground and sobbed. Harry patted his back gently, then stood up. Scorpius’s vision was blurred with tears, but he saw Harry raise his wand. 

“Expecto Patronum!” A silvery stag appeared, and Scorpius vaguely heard Harry order it to send a message to Saint Mungo’s. Saint Mungo’s? Was the injury that serious? But then he looked more closely at the cut and felt sick again. It was deep, and traced the edges of the dark mark. Scorpius had no doubt that his dad had done it to himself. He felt dizzy. Was it his fault, for running away after his dad had hit him? He had never known that his dad was so desperate and depressed that he would be willing to kill himself. But through the relief that his dad was alive and the guilt, he felt a tiny bit of anger. His dad was willing to leave him alone, with no one to take care of him?  


Scorpius looked down at his dad’s face. Draco looked nothing like he usually did. He was always so cool and confident all the time, but he looked so vulnerable now. 

He pulled his dad’s head into his lap and held him close. He couldn’t lose another parent. He knew the grief and devastation, the hole in his heart that would never fade. He didn’t think he could handle that grief a second time. And right now, when he was becoming closer to his dad, when he was finally starting to see why he acted the way he did, starting to understand him better. 

No, Scorpius thought firmly. His dad was still alive. He was not going to die. Harry was calling Saint Mungo’s, they would be here any minute.  


“Scorpius. He's going to be ok,” Harry said gently, kneeling down to look at his face. Scorpius looked at him, and seeing his worried face just made him begin crying again. Harry gently touched his shoulder, and they sat like that until they heard the familiar noises of people coming from the floo.  
A man entered the room. He took one look at Draco and immediately pointed his wand at him. 

“He’s a Death Eater,” the man gasped.  


“He’s not-” Scorpius began. But Harry interrupted him, turning to the man.  


“And I’m Harry Potter. Your point?” The man’s jaw dropped.  


“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” Normally, Scorpius would’ve been annoyed to see Harry using his hero status to his advantage like that. But this was for a good reason. The man pointed his wand at Draco again, and Scorpius jumped up, ready to defend his dad if needed. But the spell only lifted Draco up, and the man levitated him toward the Floo. He glanced at Scorpius.  


“And you’re his son?” he asked. Scorpius nodded hesitantly, hoping that the man hadn’t heard any of the rumors. “Yeah.”  


The man pursed his lips and nodded. "Right..." he said, sounding skeptical. So he had heard the rumors, Scorpius thought sadly. It seemed like everyone knew about them. 

“You can come with me now, but you will have to wait in the sitting room until your father is well," the man said.  


Before Scorpius could answer, the man had already left. Scorpius glanced at Harry, who looked at him worriedly. “He’ll be fine, Scorpius,” Harry said. But he didn't sound so sure. Scorpius pretended to not notice and gave Harry a weak smile before stepping into the Floo for the third time that day and yelling “Saint Mungo’s!” 

He appeared in the fireplace of Saint Mungo’s. He looked around to see the man who had been in his house earlier. 

He sat down on the chair beside the man, and only then he realized how exhausted he was. He looked at a clock that was on the wall. No wonder. It was past midnight. He closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep, no dreams or anything. He was grateful for that.

Scorpius awoke suddenly to someone shaking his shoulder roughly. “Your dad is awake. You can come in now.” the healer said.  
Scorpius immediately jumped up, relief in his mind, all traces of grogginess gone. He followed the healer, impatient to see his dad.  
Scorpius practically ran into the room that the healer pointed at.  


“Dad!” He yelled, running to the bed, throwing his arms around him. Tears pricked his eyes. The relief at seeing his dad alive was overwhelming. He felt his dad flinch, and realized that he had touched the bandaged dark mark. He jumped up and backed away.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. His dad gave him a tired smile. “It’s alright.” He motioned for Scorpius to come closer.  


The two of them embraced each other. Scorpius began crying again, and his dad pulled him closer. He felt guilty for crying and needing to be comforted while his dad was actually the one who needed comfort. 

“Why did you do… that?” Scorpius asked, motioning towards the bandaged arm. His dad’s face became hesitant, conflicted. He looked exhausted, Scorpius realized. Also pale, and weaker than Scorpius had ever seen him.  


“I’m sorry for hurting you,” his dad said, looking away in guilt. Scorpius could see that he meant it.  


“It’s ok, Dad. I forgive you,” Scorpius smiled. His dad’s mouth dropped open. He had obviously not expected Scorpius to forgive him so quickly.  


“No, it’s not ok. I swore to never hurt you. I swore to be better,” he said quietly. Scorpius couldn’t stand seeing his dad so sad.  


“You are better, Dad. Much better than your father was to you,” Scorpius said. His dad just looked at him tiredly. 

“Your Grandfather made some mistakes, Scorpius, but he’s still part of our family,” he said firmly. “You should still be respectful.”  


But Scorpius didn’t understand how his dad could love someone who had hurt him so much. His dad actually believed that his grandfather had done what was right. Anger rushed through him, towards his Grandfather, for probably the thousandth time this day.  


Then he thought about how his dad had hit him, and he still forgave his dad. But this was different, he told himself. His dad had never hurt him before, only this once. But then he realized that his dad had avoided his question. 

“You didn’t answer me,” Scorpius pointed out. He felt a sudden anger and stood up. His dad looked at him in surprise.  
“Why did you try to kill yourself? And leave me here alone?” His dad winced at the anger in Scorpius’s voice, but Scorpius found that he didn’t care. 

“How could you do this to me? Don’t you know how horrible it was when Mom died? How would I have been able to handle it if you had died too?” Scorpius realized he was yelling now but couldn’t stop. Scorpius was the type of person who wouldn’t show his anger until he just exploded, yelling at whoever was unfortunate enough to be the brunt of his anger.  


He realized he was crying as well, and quieted down.  


“Scorpius,” his dad said, and then stopped, as if not knowing what to say. Scorpius wiped away his tears and turned to walk out of the room, still angry.  


“Wait,” his dad called, desperately. “I thought you would be angry with me, for hitting you.” He looked down. “I never wanted you to see me like that.”  
Scorpius whirled around. “And that’s the only reason?” he asked. His dad sighed, but before he could say anything, the door was pushed open.

Of course the healer had to come in the moment his dad was going to tell him something. But Scorpius took a deep breath, knowing that he shouldn’t blame the healer. He was only doing his job. But his dad looked annoyed. He raised his eyebrows, looking at the man.  


“Yes?” he drawled, sounding every bit like the arrogant teenager Scorpius had seen in his memories.  


The man looked at the two of them suspiciously. “You have some other visitors.”  


He walked out of the room, leaving his dad looking surprised. It was probably Harry, Scorpius thought. Or Albus, here to find out what happened. Scorpius knew that Harry wouldn’t tell anyone about the incident unless he absolutely needed to.  
But neither Scorpius or his dad were prepared for the people who stepped into the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two unexpected people visit Draco and Scorpius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I love you all soooo much for all support! A couple of you guessed what would happen in this chapter. Let's see if you're right...
> 
> Edit: I tried to edit this because some people mentioned that I forgot something that would be interesting to add in, and I ended up changing a lot ;) I hope you like it!!

Draco’s body stiffened in shock, and his stomach twisted into knots. His father. His mother stood beside him, and Draco inwardly winced at the worry and concern in her expression. He hadn’t thought about his parents when he had hurt himself, and now he felt horribly guilty. His father’s gaze was sharp, and it felt like he was reading Draco’s mind, making him feel small.

Then Draco felt like hitting himself. He wasn’t a child anymore. He shouldn’t be afraid of his father. But he knew that he still was, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. He hated that feeling, of the fear and helplessness he felt when around his father. He never wanted anyone to see that side of him, even now. He didn’t want anyone to see the frightened boy that hid beneath the arrogant and confident man that was on the surface. But his son had seen it all. Seen all of his worst memories, his deepest secrets. He didn’t know how to feel about that, that someone else knew more about him than anyone else alive now did.  


“Father, Mother. How are you?” he asked, meeting his father’s cold eyes. He felt his heart rate picking up, but he made his face expressionless and smiled. As a child, it had been impossible for him to fake confidence around his father, as he had been absolutely terrified of him. But now, after years of practice and meeting with his father and mother almost every month (whenever Scorpius was away), he could successfully hide his emotions around his father and have a conversation with him without getting nervous. 

After he had married Astoria, his parents had moved away to one of their summer homes, because, as his father had put it, they couldn’t bear to live with their disgraceful son and his weak wife. And his mother always did whatever his father did, so she had gone with him. And Draco had been heartbroken. He still was, actually. But a small, guilty part of him had been glad that his father wouldn’t be there anymore to insult him and Astoria every time he saw them. Now he felt horrible for feeling that way, because no matter how hurtful his father’s comments were, he was still Draco’s father. And Draco loved his father, and even now, he craved approval.

Scorpius’s mouth was wide open with shock. Then Draco saw his normally gentle son’s face become furious as he stalked towards Draco’s parents. “Stop,” Draco wanted to say, but for some reason his voice wasn’t working.  


“You’re evil! I hate you!” Scorpius yelled at his grandfather’s face. Lucius’s eyes slowly moved towards Scorpius, who stood his ground firmly. 

Draco’s heart jumped into his throat as he tried to read his father’s face. Draco would never dare say something like that to his father. He didn’t understand how his son could be so brave, to yell at such a terrifying man without even looking afraid. That bravery definitely hadn’t come from Draco.  
Although his father was definitely less intimidating in his old age, he was the only person still alive who could make Draco feel like a young child again, submissive and obedient. 

His father raised an eyebrow when he saw Scorpius’s face, and Draco knew exactly what he was looking at. The bruise that Draco had made was still there, and Draco saw for the first time how large it was. Guilt flooded through him again.  


His father’s eyes were calm, but Draco could see how surprised he was. 

“Draco, I was going to tell you that you need to… discipline your son more, but it seems like you’re already doing so,” he drawled. Draco knew that his father was against the way Scorpius was being raised, but it was too much for him to insult Draco's parenting! Draco felt a small flare of anger.

“My dad doesn’t abuse me,” Scopius said angrily. “But you abused him!”  
Abuse? That word always made Draco uncomfortable. He preferred discipline. Or punishment. Abuse made it seem more serious than it actually was.  


“Did you tell him that we abused you?” his father asked coldly, turning to Draco. “I punished you for your failures, which were much more common than your accomplishments. If you even had any of those at all.”  


Draco looked away, ashamed. Had he really been that horrible of a son?  
His father glared at him, and Draco realized that he was expecting a response.  


"Yes, Father,” he said quietly. He turned to look at his mother, who didn’t meet his eyes. Of course. 

“And you,” his father said, turning to Scorpius angrily. Scorpius didn’t even flinch, and once again, Draco marveled at his son's bravery.  


“How dare you speak to me like that? And if your father doesn’t discipline you, as you claim, where did you get that horrid bruise from?” Lucius snarled. 

“Father, I did make that bruise, but it was on accident,” Draco said quietly. His father raised an eyebrow. “And how-”  
“You don’t need to know. You don’t deserve to know,” Scorpius said. 

If his father had been angry before, it was nothing compared to how he was now. He looked livid. Draco shuddered at the look on his face. 

“Don’t you dare interrupt me again, you insolent boy,” His father hissed. “At least your father has one thing right; he is obedient to me. You need to learn that lesson as well.”  


Draco winced. He would've been so happy if his father had said that when he had been a child, but now he wasn't so sure. 

“He was afraid of you,” Scorpius said angrily. “And I don’t blame him. You’re a terrible father. But I’m not afraid of you, and I never will be,”

“Scorpius,” Draco said firmly. “That’s enough.” Scorpius still looked angry, but he stayed silent. 

Draco thought about what his son had said. Was his father the one at fault, or was Draco just a horrible son? His father had only done what he thought was right. But for the first time, Draco thought about how different he and his father were. After all, Draco would never beat his son, even if Scorpius did deserve a punishment. So why had his father done it to him? 

His father sighed, turning to Draco. “Your son is actually more of a disgrace than you were, Draco,” he drawled. “I didn’t think it was possible, yet here we are. Must be those defective Greengrass genes.” 

Draco grimaced, feeling the jibe towards Astoria like it was towards him. Scorpius looked stunned, as if he didn’t believe that his grandfather had just said that. 

“Astoria wasn’t defective, and neither is Scorpius,” he said angrily. Before his father could say something else (clearly another insult), his mother interrupted. 

“How are you feeling, Draco?” she asked, glaring at her husband as if daring him to say something else. His father scoffed but fell silent.  


“I’m better,” Draco said. 

Scorpius was staring at Draco’s mother. Did Scorpius hate Draco’s mother too? The thought made Draco sad. His son would never get to have a relationship with his grandparents, because of all the hate between them. Admittedly, Draco never had the perfect relationship with either of his parents. But at least he understood why they did what they did. Scorpius would never understand that.

“So, Draco. What idiotic thing have you done now?” his father sneered when he caught sight of Draco’s bandaged dark mark. He probably already knew, Draco thought. He just wanted to hear Draco admit it.  


“It was a mistake, Father,” Draco said, forcing his voice to not shake.  


“A mistake, Draco? A mistake? After all your mother and I have given you, all we have done for you, you repay us by trying to kill yourself?” His father hissed, slamming his hand onto the bedside table. Draco flinched.  


He had been wrong before. His father was still just as intimidating as he had been in Draco’s childhood. Draco focused on the cane his father always held, which was tapping aggressively on the floor. That was always a sign of his father’s anger. 

“Stop it!” Scorpius yelled. “You haven’t done anything for my dad! You hurt him!”  


Lucius glared at Scorpius. “And I can punish you as well, if you don't silence yourself,” he sneered. "If your father isn't willing teach you, then I might have to take over." 

He turned to Draco, and he couldn’t help shrinking away slightly from his father’s intimidating gaze.  


“Draco, why would you hurt yourself?” his mother asked.  


“And how did you ‘accidentally’ hurt your son?” his father sneered. 

Draco took a deep breath. He had to tell his parents everything now.  


“After the war, I bought a pensieve,” Draco said, looking up at his parents to see their reactions.  
Both looked blank. “What?” his mother asked. Draco took a deep breath.  


“I bought a pensieve to store my memories in,” he said quietly. “And Scorpius found it accidentally. I had to go in to get him out.”  
His mother looked horrified. Draco had no doubt that she knew about how pensieves dulled memories. And what it meant now that he had gone into the pensieve again.  


“Draco,” she gasped. Guilt flooded through him when he saw his mother start to cry. She went up to the bed and put her arms around Draco. Draco’s eyes widened in surprise and he stiffened. 

He realized for the first time that he and his mother had never really hugged. In fact, the only person he had ever gotten affection from in his childhood had been Severus, and even that had been rare.  


He had always known that she loved him, because she had always been kind and gentle with him, unlike his father. But he had also always known that she loved his father just as much, maybe even more than him. She had never tried to help Draco after he was punished. And that hurt him almost as much as his father’s disappointment.  


Both of his parents had spoiled him, giving him anything he would ever desire, as if to make up for their shortcomings. But that had never been enough for him. He had always wanted their love and affection. 

“Draco,” he heard his father say. He turned to his father uncertainty, still apprehensive, his mother still clinging to him in a way that was unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable. 

“Even as a child you were… disturbed. But to do something this foolish? I’m surprised even you could be this idiotic.” His father sighed, shaking his head as if too disgusted to say anything more. Draco tried to ignore the familiar feeling of hurt that came with his father’s words, but he felt a lump in his throat that just wouldn’t go away. 

“Stop insulting my dad.” Scorpius looked angrier than Draco had ever seen him. Draco’s father whirled around and glared at Scorpius with such a ferocious look that Draco wanted to grab his son and hide somewhere with him. 

“Ignorant child!” his father hissed at Scorpius. “Don’t you know what you have done to my son by going into his pensieve?” Scorpius’s eyes went wide with surprise, and he glanced at Draco uneasily. “What’s he talking about?” he asked, looking at his dad. Slowly, his father’s eyes shifted towards Draco as well, until everyone was looking at him.  


“Yes, Draco. Explain to your ungrateful, ill-mannered son what I’m talking about,” his father snarled. Scorpius flushed but otherwise ignored his grandfather, looking at Draco curiously.

Draco found himself unable to speak. Maybe it was the fact that his father was staring at him in that terrifying way that made Draco's voice stop working, or it was because the memory was too painful to talk about. Either way, he felt like his throat was closing up.  
His mother took pity on him and cleared her throat, bringing the attention of her husband and grandson towards her.  


“When someone puts memories in a pensieve, it can either be used to remember them at a future time, or it can be used to… dull memories. Usually used by people who have traumatizing memories they don’t want to remember as vividly,” his mother said, sniffing as she turned to look at Draco.  


“Draco, why didn’t you tell us you were suffering? We could have helped you.” 

Draco didn't know what to say to that. He couldn’t exactly tell his parents that he wasn’t comfortable enough with them to tell them personal things like this. If he had told them about his problems after the war, his mother would have overreacted and become overbearing. His father would have just sneered at him and told him that he needed to grow up. They wouldn’t have understood.  


“I’m sorry,” he said instead, looking down to study his bandaged dark mark. His father sneered and shook his head, muttering something that Draco was sure was an insult towards him. He was glad he couldn’t hear it. Then his father began to speak.

“You didn’t finish, Narcissa dear. You see, boy, if the person who put the memories into the pensieve is to go in and see them again, even just one, the memories will come back to the full extent, as if they had just experienced them.” 

Both Draco and his father watched Scorpius as he came to the realization of what he had done, and the horror and guilt on his face hurt Draco. He wanted to tell his son that it was ok, that it wasn’t his fault. 

“Scorpius, it’s not your fault, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have made the pensieve in the first place.” Draco tried to make Scorpius feel better, but his son’s face was miserable. And his father looked furious: not at Draco for once, but at Scorpius.

Draco knew that his father was fine with hurting him himself, but if Draco was hurt by anyone else, that person was dead. In his third year, when the hippogriff had scratched him, his father had been furious. He had done anything he could to get it killed, just because Draco had wanted to. That had been the first time he felt that his father actually cared about him and didn’t just think of him as a heir, but as a son. 

The feeling had made him happier than he had ever been in a long time. He had wanted that to last forever, but after the hippogriff trial, his father had gone to treating him the same way he had before. And Draco had wondered if it was all just an act to the public. If his father had just wanted to show everyone his power, show that he could do anything if he wanted to. In fact. he still wasn't sure why his father had cared enough to go through all that trouble to kill the hippogriff, because Draco's injury hadn't been that serious. 

“Father, it really wasn’t his fault,” Draco said calmly.  


“I’m sorry Dad!” Scorpius cried out suddenly. “I didn’t know that it would affect you in that way!” He moved as if to go to Draco but was stopped by his father. 

“You’ve already done enough.” The look on his face was one Draco was used to, and he was certain that everyone else in the room could hear his heart pounding; after all, how couldn’t they? It was as loud as a drum. 

“I think it’s time for you to go, Father.” Draco said firmly, although his heart was racing and his palms were sweating. This was only the second time in his entire life he had said anything against his father. But he wouldn’t allow his father to do anything to Scorpius. He couldn’t allow his son to be hurt the way he had been.  


His father turned towards him in shock. “What did you just say to me?” he growled, low and dangerous. The voice that Draco knew was a warning for him, saying that if he kept going against his father, it would mean pain. And when he was a child, he definitely would have backed down, immediately, without second thought. And now, although he was afraid, he loved his son too much for him to be hurt.

“You-you heard what I said,” Draco stammered. He tried to stop himself him flinching when his father came closer, the snake cane that had tormented Draco all his life in his hand. 

He expected the cane to come up for sure now, but his father only looked at him for a few seconds with an unreadable emotion. "I only want what's best for you," his father said harshly. "Why can't you ever understand that?" Draco frowned. 

Then his father turned around and walked out of the room. Draco relaxed immediately, not noticing until now how tense he had been. His mother looked between her husband and son, and followed her husband out, giving her son one last sad look. Draco sighed. He shouldn’t be surprised by his mother’s behavior by now. 

But he couldn’t stop the familiar feeling of worthlessness, wondering why his mother always chose his father over him, wondering why he was never enough for the two people who were supposed to love him unconditionally. He had never believed in unconditional love until he had Scorpius. That was when he found out what it meant to love a person so dearly you would protect them with your life. That was when he understood how Harry’s parents had given the sacrifice they had. He had always thought that he had to earn love and affection. He had never realized that it wasn’t true until Scorpius and Astoria had come into his life.

“Dad?” Draco jumped at the voice, forgetting that Scorpius was there with him. His son was looking at him with a worried expression.  


“Are you ok?” Draco was about to nod his head when he realized it wasn’t true. He wasn’t ok. He was broken. 

Broken from the memories that were flooding through his head, that he had somehow managed to keep hidden from both of his parents. Broken from the constant insults and disappointment that had come from his father, the person he admired so much and desperately wanted to impress, since childhood. 

But he had to stay strong for his son. Scorpius obviously thought this was his own fault, judging by his expression. And Draco never wanted his son to feel that way.

He forced a smile, although he knew it must look strained.  


“I’m alright Scorpius.” he smiled. Scorpius frowned at him, obviously not believing him.  
Draco sighed. He heard the door open once again and looked at it, half expecting to see his parents standing there. Instead, a healer stepped in, the same one as before. Annoyed at the interruption once again, Draco glared at the man.

“Mr. Malfoy, I have your potion, for your arm. It may make you drowsy for a while,” the man said, looking at Draco’s left arm with slight disgust. Draco knew that the man knew what was under the bandages. But Draco was used to it. He was used to being looked at in that way. He accepted the potion, forcing a curt “thank you”. The man nodded and turned around and left the room.  


Draco looked at his son.  


“You should leave now, Scorpius. Go back home.” Scorpius shook his head, and Draco was too tired to argue with him. He drowned the potion, and his eyes were closing on their own accord, and he fell into the oblivion of sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry decides to visit Draco. How will it end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! School started a few days ago and I'm already dying. I might not be updating as often, so I tried to make this one a long chapter. Hope you like it! (I get really happy when you comment)

Harry Potter was on his way to Saint Mungo’s. After Draco had been taken to the hospital, he had gone home to tell his family of what had happened. He would have gone back to Saint Mungo’s immediately, but Ginny had firmly told him that he needed to get sleep. After all, it was after midnight already. And when Ginny sounded like that, he would never dare refuse her. But he felt bad for Scorpius, who was alone in the hospital when his father was injured.

Albus had begged him if he could go to the hospital to see Scorpius, but Ginny had said no. Albus had thrown a fit and run into his room, which was nothing new, so Harry wasn’t worried.  
But now it was morning, and after a nap, he had agreed to take Albus with him to Saint Mungo’s to see the Malfoys.  
He entered the hospital with Albus, who already scanning around to see where his best friend was.

“Where are they? Where’s Scorpius?” he asked, looking around. Harry went up to the front desk, where the same healer who had helped Draco was.  
“Hello,” Harry said politely. The man gaped at him, and Harry tried not to feel annoyed. “Which room are the Malfoys in?”

“I’ll take you there,” the man said quickly, jumping up from his seat. Harry followed him down the hallway, Albus right behind him.  


“I’m sorry for saying he was a Death Eater…” the man said. “I didn’t know he was your friend.”  
Harry forced a smile and said, “It’s alright.”

The room was downstairs, which Harry found a little strange. Why would Draco be kept in a room on the bottom floor instead of on the higher floors, with the other patients? Then he realized the answer.  


They still didn’t trust the Malfoys. Even Scorpius. Like so many people in their world today, the Saint Mungo’s staff thought the Malfoys were evil, and didn’t want to risk keeping them with their other patients.

Honestly, Harry couldn't blame them. He wasn’t proud to say this, but he had been one of those people before he had actually met Scorpius and had gotten to know Draco better.  


And now, although he and Draco still didn’t have the best relationship, he was almost as worried about Draco as he would’ve been if it were Ron or Hermione in his place. Not only for Draco’s sake, but for Scorpius’s. After all, Draco was the only family the boy had left.

“It’s the third door down that hall,” the man said, pointing at a door. Harry nodded.  
“Thank you,” he said. The man smiled.  


“No, thank you, Mr. Potter. You saved the Wizarding World. You saved my family. And I could never repay you back for that.”  
Harry felt a bit uncomfortable. He had really never wanted anything in return for his actions, except a bit of peace and relaxation. Thankfully, the man seemed to realize this and looked at Harry one more time before walking away.

Albus hadn’t heard any of this, and had set off down the hall immediately after the man pointed at the door. Harry had to run to catch up with him. Albus threw open the door and ran in. “Scorpius!” Harry heard him yell. He finally caught up with Albus and stopped outside the door, wheezing. He really was getting old.

He glanced down the hall behind him and his eyes widened. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were standing there. Lucius looked annoyed and angry, and Narcissa seemed to be trying to calm him down. When they caught sight of him, Lucius’s eyes narrowed in suspicion when he saw which room Harry was entering. Harry couldn’t help glaring at him.

It seemed he didn’t know about his son’s newfound friendship. That didn't really surprise Harry, because he had promised Draco to avoid mentioning to the public that he was ever involved with Delphi. The only people who knew were the obvious: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and their families. The time turner was Draco's, and if anyone else found out that he had one, he would've been arrested for sure.

Actually, now that Harry thought about it, he remembered that Draco had mentioned that the time turner was his father's. Had he stolen it from him? Harry looked at Lucius thoughtfully, but before he could do anything, the two older Malfoys disapperated in a swirl of robes. He sighed and turned towards the door, hesitating for a moment.

Would Draco want to see him? Harry definitely considered Draco a friend now. But he didn’t know if Draco felt the same way.

He saw Albus throw his arms around his friend, and the two of hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Harry smiled at the sight. It was nice to see that his quietest child had a close friend he could trust. Even if he was a Malfoy.  


“Does it hurt?” Albus asked, pointing at the bruise on Scorpius’s face.  


“No, it’s fine now,” Scorpius replied.  
Harry smiled at Scorpius, and looked over to the bed only to realize that Draco was asleep.

He shuddered at the memory of seeing his bloody body on the ground. It had reminded him of a certain incident in their sixth year. It had given Harry an immediate flashback to the Sectumsempra spell, and he had been guilty all over again.  


“Is he better?” He directed the question to Scorpius, who didn’t seem to realize the Harry was speaking to him until Albus nudged him. “Oh!” Scorpius blushed, and Harry noticed that it wasn’t like his father. Draco only had small red tinges on his cheeks when embarrassed, while Scorpius turned full out red.

“Yeah, he’s doing better,” Scorpius answered. There was an awkward silence for some time.

“I saw your grandparents out there,” Harry said, breaking the silence. Maybe Scorpius knew something about the time turner? Scorpius frowned.

“Were they here to visit him too?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Scorpius said tightly. He didn’t appear to want to talk about his grandparents. Harry wondered why. 

“You don’t seem… fond of your grandparents,” Harry said. Scorpius’s frown deepened and he looked down at his dad again, looking troubled.  
Albus, who had been quiet until now, said “Well, what do you expect? They were Death Eaters.”

Scorpius looked at him sharply.  


“My dad was one too! And he isn’t evil,” he said. Albus seemed to realize what he had said and looked down. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Harry watched in surprise. Albus never would have apologized like that to anyone in their family.

The silence returned as the three of them watched Draco sleep. Harry knew that Draco would be furious if he knew that Harry was here, seeing him when he was this vulnerable, so he looked at Scorpius instead. 

Harry saw that Scorpius really wasn’t like any of his family before him. He seemed more innocent, but also more mature in a way. Harry was sure that if anyone had insulted Draco’s father at school, even Draco’s friends, he wouldn’t have hesitated to curse them. Scorpius had handled it much more maturely.

Harry felt horrible for having believed that Scorpius was the ‘dark cloud’ around Albus. In fact, Albus had been the one to have the idea to bring Cedric back, as the two of them had insisted later.  


“I’m sorry, Scorpius,” Harry said. Scorpius and Albus both looked up at him, surprised. “What?” Scorpius asked.  


“I judged you unfairly because of your family name, and I deeply regret having done that now,” Harry admitted. “Albus really does have great taste in friends.”  


Scorpius blushed again and Albus smiled. “Yeah, I really do,” he said, nodding in agreement. He looked up at Harry in approval, which made Harry feel cheerful as well.  


“Your father and grandparents may not have been the best people, but they, especially your father, have come a long way since the war,” Harry said. Scorpius beamed at him happily.

“Although, maybe not your grandfather as much,” Harry half joked, wanting to see Scorpius’s expression. His smile faded away slowly. Something was going on. Something to do with Lucius and Narcissa, and possibly Draco as well. And Harry was determined to find out what. Did it have to do with what Scorpius had found before he had come to Harry’s house?

“Why don’t you like your grandparents?” Harry asked, deciding to be blunt. Scorpius looked shocked at the question, then nervous and conflicted.

“I never said I don’t like them,” Scorpius spluttered, making it obvious he was lying. Another way he was different from his father. Draco was an expert at lying and deceiving.

“Dad, stop!” Albus argued. “He doesn’t want to talk about it!” Harry looked at his son for a moment before returning his attention to Scorpius, who looked flustered.  


“Scorpius, you can tell me anything,” Harry said gently. It seemed to work, as Scorpius relaxed. “Did they do something to you?” At this, Albus quieted down as well, looking at Scorpius in horror.  


“They better not have!” Albus said. Scorpius smiled weakly at him.

“No, they didn’t do anything… to me.” He said the last part so quietly that Harry had to strain to hear it. To me? Did that mean that they did something to someone else? Well obviously, because Lucius has been a Death Eater. And a willing one too, not like Draco. Lucius had obviously killed and tortured before, in both wars. And although Narcissa hadn't been a Death Eater, she was just as bad as her husband. But the way Scorpius said it made it seem like it was something more personal than just that.

“What do you mean?” Albus asked, obviously just as confused as Harry. Scorpius sniffed, and to Harry and Albus’s horror, tears welled up in his eyes.  
“What’s wrong?” Albus asked.

“Did they do something to your dad?” Harry asked curiously. Who else would Scorpius get so emotional over? Besides Albus.

Scorpius hesitated for a second before nodding. Harry couldn’t believe it. What could they do to their own son?

“What-what did they do?” Harry was almost afraid to ask. Scorpius didn’t answer. He seemed reluctant.  


“I don’t know if Dad will want me to tell anyone,” Scorpius said softly.  
Harry wondered what it could be. Lucius and Narcissa loved their son. At least, Narcissa did for sure.

But then Harry remembered the times he had seen Draco with his father when they were in school, how Lucius had used his snake cane to smack Draco’s hand and shoulders. How quiet and tense Draco became while his father was around. How he almost seemed… afraid.

“Was it something done to him by Lucius when he was younger?” Harry asked hesitantly. Scorpius’s mouth dropped open. “How’d you know?” he asked, surprised.

Harry was shocked. Draco had always seemed like such a spoiled brat who admired and loved his father more than anything. Anyone who had met him would have been able to tell. Almost his every sentence started with the words ‘my father’.

“I’ve had my suspicions,” Harry said softly. Scorpius looked shocked. “You knew? You knew that he was being abused and you didn’t do anything?” Harry winced at the word and shook his head quickly.  


“Scorpius, if I’d known then, I would’ve tried to help your dad,” he said. “I wouldn’t have just left him there.”

“My grandfather is a cruel man,” Scorpius sniffed. Harry couldn’t agree more. How could a parent hurt their own child? It was one thing for the Dursleys to neglect him. Although it still wasn’t right for them to do it, he wasn’t their actual son. He knew that even though they were cruel people, they would never hurt their own son. But Lucius was a horrible, cruel man for having hurt his own child. Harry didn’t want to know what he had done to his son in private if he had treated him so cruelly in public. He had always hated Lucius Malfoy, but now the hatred for him grew twice as much.

Harry heard shifting from the bed and looked over. Almost as if he had sensed that people were talking about him, Draco sat up in bed, looking groggy. As soon as he saw Harry, his grogginess disappeared and his expression became guarded.  


“Potter,” he greeted stiffly. Harry realized that Draco probably didn’t know about about what had happened after... everything.

“Draco,” Harry said softly. Draco raised his eyebrows.  
“What are you doing here?” He sounded confused.

“Dad, after… that happened,” Scorpius said, obviously referring to Draco hitting him. Draco winced and looked away from Scorpius. He looked so guilty, Harry now had no doubt that he had not meant to hurt Scorpius.

“I went to Mr. Potter’s house, and then we went back to the Manor to find you. Then we went into the kitchen and saw…” he trailed off at the end, looking at his father’s left arm.

“Mr. Malfoy?” Albus’s voice rang out. Draco looked at Albus, surprised. He had obviously not noticed him.  
“Hello, Albus,” he said, and Harry noticed that he was considerably warmer when talking to Albus than when talking to Harry.

“Are you feeling ok?” Harry inwardly groaned. He hoped Albus would not begin to question Draco about what had just been revealed. Draco had been through enough in the past few hours. It would not help to make him recount his probably unpleasant memories.  


“Yes, I’m feeling better,” Draco said in a puzzled tone. He had obviously picked up on Albus’s hesitation.

“Scorpius told us about your father,” Albus blurted out. Harry looked at Draco’s expression, which was slowly turning into shock. Scorpius’s eyes went wide in surprise.  


“I’m sorry,” Harry said quickly, giving Albus a stern look. “Albus, I think it’s time for you to go.”  


“What?!” Albus yelled. “But-”  


“No buts,” Harry said firmly. “Go wait outside for me.” Albus grumbled as he stepped outside the room and closed the door with a slam, obviously unhappy. 

Then Harry turned his face back to Draco. The shock from before had disappeared, back to his emotionless, guarded stare.  


“Oh? And what did he tell you?” Draco asked quietly. He glanced at Scorpius, who looked guilty.  


“I’m sorry, Dad,” Scorpius said guiltily. Draco didn’t say anything.  


“He didn’t exactly tell us,” Harry said. He didn’t want to get Scorpius in trouble. “I kinda guessed...”  


Draco rolled his eyes. “Don't lie to me. How could you guess? It’s not like you ever saw my father beat me.” He looked like he immediately regretted saying that, but it was too late.

Harry couldn’t hold back a gasp. Lucius had beaten his son? As punishment? That was not punishment. That was abuse.  


“Was it with your father’s cane?” Harry asked tentatively.  
Draco glared at him.

“That’s none of your business,” he said stiffly.

"It was," Scorpius said quietly. Draco gave him an exasperated look.

Harry felt horrible. How had nobody ever noticed that Draco was being abused? It certainly explained a lot about his behavior though. How he bullied everyone else, how he had been so obviously jealous of Harry and his friends. He had even told Harry that.

Even though it was not his fault, Harry couldn’t help feeling guilty. Draco had been suffering right in front of their eyes, and no one had noticed.

“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone?” Harry asked. Then he felt stupid for even asking that. This wasn't normal, everyday conversation. Even Harry hadn't talked much about the Dursleys at school with his close friends. Draco's friends weren't even that close to him, so why would he have told them?

“There was nothing to tell,” Draco said flatly. Harry looked at him in shock. Could he actually believe that?

“Draco, you could have told me,” But Harry knew that even if Draco had trusted him enough to say something, past Harry wouldn’t have believed him, or worse, wouldn’t have done anything to help. Judging by Draco’s angry expression, he knew that as well.

“Excuse me if I didn’t realize that I need to tell Golden Boy Potter everything that happens in my life!” Draco snapped.

"Dad!" Scorpius gasped.

Annoyance built up in Harry’s chest. Why did Draco act so difficult? It was like he did it on purpose, just to annoy Harry. Every time they encountered each other, they ended up angry and fighting about the most ridiculous things. Even now, as adults, when they should have gotten over their childhood rivalry. But Draco was just so infuriating!

“Look Draco, I’m trying to help you!” Harry yelled.  


“I don’t need your help, and I definitely don’t want it!” Draco shot back.  


Harry threw up his hands in frustration. “And who else would try? Most people hate you, and for good reason too.”

He hadn’t meant it in an insulting way, but he thought about how Draco must have heard it and immediately regretted saying anything. He was supposed to get Draco to trust him, not get angry at him! But it was too late. Draco jumped off the bed and grabbed his wand from the bedside table, advancing towards Harry. 

“Stop!” Scorpius cried, but Draco ignored him. Harry stood his ground calmly. He wasn’t afraid of Draco. 

Draco's gray eyes glinted with malice and spite, just like they had when he was younger. And the sight just made Harry remember why he had hated Draco so much all those years ago.  


Harry tightened his hold on his wand as well, just in case Draco tried anything.

“You think I don’t know that?” Draco asked furiously. “Go on, Potter, remind me of how you, the precious Chosen One, are loved by everyone in the public and how much you and everyone else hate disgusting Death Eaters like me.”

Harry glared at him. He didn’t think of anyone in that way. He didn’t hate Draco for being a Death Eater when he’d had no choice. How could Draco think that Harry was so prejudiced like that? Draco had been the prejudiced one!

Draco raised his wand and Harry did the same, their bodies tensing as they prepared to fight.

“Flipendo!” Draco yelled, and Harry felt himself lift off his feet and hit the wall on the other end. His back hit the wall hard, and pain flared his vision for a moment. He got to his feet with a grunt and pointed his wand at Draco, who was smirking at him cruelly.   


“Expelli-”

“Stop it!” Both men jumped in surprise as Scorpius leaped in between them. Harry had almost forgotten that the boy was even here.  
Draco immediately lowered his wand and took a deep breath. Harry felt his rage disappear, replaced by guilt. He had wanted to help Draco, and they had ended up dueling.

“Stop fighting like that!” Scorpius looked bewildered at the way the two men were insulting each other. He was watching Draco with a stunned expression. It was obvious that he had never seen that side to his father before.

“I’m sorry, Scorpius,” Harry said guiltily. He turned to Draco. “You too, Draco. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”  
And he was truly sorry. They were adults now, and they shouldn’t have let their petty childhood rivalries get the better of them. But Draco was one of the only people who could get under Harry’s skin like he had just now. They could only get along when it was absolutely necessary, like in Godric’s Hollow.

Draco nodded stiffly. “I apologize as well, Potter. I should not have been so… difficult.” But Harry could see the irritation that remained in Draco’s cold gray eyes, and he knew that he was not completely forgiven yet.  
Harry sighed.  


“Draco, I know that we can never be best friends because of all our history. But don’t you think that we should at least try to be civil?”

Draco scowled. “Well, you’re not making it easy,” he said, crossing his arms.  
Harry forced himself to stay calm. He knew that Draco was just naturally defensive, so he tried not to take it personally.

“Dad…” Scorpius said. Draco gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were calm, and he watched Harry silently. Harry didn’t want to risk invoking Draco’s temper again, so he decided to play it cool.

“I know, and I’ll try to make it easier now,” Harry said. Draco opened his mouth and closed it again in shock, obviously having expected Harry to take the bait and yell at him. Harry couldn’t hold back a smirk. He had surprised Draco enough to silence him.

“I know that this isn’t something you want to talk about,” Harry said. He knew how Draco felt. It was hard for him to talk about the Dursleys to anyone, and it would be even harder for Draco to talk about his father.  
Draco still looked shocked, but he recovered quickly.

“Just forget about it, Potter. This is not something that I wanted anyone to know,” Draco sighed. For the first time, Harry saw how tired he looked, with dark shadows underneath his eyes. Draco’s normally immaculate hair was disheveled. He looked undignified, which was rare for him. In fact, the only time Harry had seen him look any less than perfect was during their sixth year. 

“But-” Harry stopped talking when he saw the anger flare up again in Draco’s eyes, and he held up his hands.  


“Ok, ok, I’ll forget about it, Draco. Truce?” Harry asked, holding out his hand. Draco hesitated, and for a moment, Harry thought that he wouldn’t take it. But after a few seconds, Draco took Harry’s hand.

“Truce,” he agreed, shaking Harry’s hand. Harry grinned and thought about when Draco had done the same thing more than 20 years ago, on their first train ride. Harry had refused then, but now he was the one offering Draco his friendship. And Draco had taken it. It was so ironic that Harry snickered. 

Draco stared at him. Harry was unable to hold back his laughter now, just looking at Draco's startled expression. Draco rolled his eyes and looked away, but Harry could see the smirk he was trying to hide. 

Scorpius looked utterly confused. “What’s going on?” he asked. Draco just shook his head. “It’s nothing.” Harry tried to stop laughing. 

"Maybe you should leave now," Draco said. He motions towards the door. "Your son is waiting for you." 

Harry nodded. “Of course.”  


“Should I go too?” Scorpius asked. Draco looked at him, and his expression softened. Now Harry felt horrible for ever doubting Draco's love for his son. He obviously loved Scorpius as much as Harry loved his kids.  


“Yes, Scorpius. I think you should leave now. You should go home,” he said.

But Harry knew that he couldn’t just forget what he had discovered, no matter how much Draco wanted him to. He was too guilty, and he couldn’t help but feel like he could’ve helped Draco somehow.  


Harry walked out and shut the door softly behind him. He hoped that the senior Malfoys weren’t still there, because if he saw them now, he would not be able to stop himself from cursing Lucius.

Scorpius followed him, and Albus was nowhere to be seen.  


“Where’s Albus?” Harry asked. Scorpius shrugged.  


“I don’t know,” he replied. Harry assumed that Albus had gotten impatient and went back home.

“Are you alright, Scorpius?” Harry asked, seeing the unhappy look on the boy’s face. Scorpius shook his head.  


“I think my dad is mad at me now,” he sniffed. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you.”  


Harry touched Scorpius’s shoulder. “He’s not mad at you. If he’s mad at anyone, it’s me.” Scorpius gave him a small smile. Harry had to cheer him up somehow. 

“Do you want to know why I were laughing?” Scorpius nodded curiously. Harry grinned.  


“When we first met on our first train ride, your dad offered me his friendship. I refused because, no offense, your dad was kind of a jerk back then.”  
Scorpius grinned. “Yeah, I’ve heard,” he said.  


“And I just found it ironic that I offered him my friendship this time, and he actually accepted it! Honestly, I thought he wouldn’t, so he could get revenge on me for when I refused,” Harry laughed. Scorpius laughed too, and for about the millionth time, Harry could see how different he was from Draco. And then his thoughts shifted back to what he had found out, and his smile disappeared.

Harry wondered if there were any laws against child abuse in the Wizarding World. He knew that in the Muggle world, hurting children was against the law, and people could go to jail for that. Even what the Dursleys had done to him was technically illegal in the Muggle world. If that was illegal, what Lucius had done to Draco would definitely be considered abuse. If this was the muggle world, Lucius could have gone on trial and been in jail already. So why couldn’t that happen here too? Harry knew he had to do something to Lucius. What he had done to his son was horrible, and Harry wanted to see some punishment for it.

"Mr. Potter?" Scorpius said hesitantly. His laughter from before had faded away, and he looked nervous now.

"Yes?" Harry asked absently, his mind still focused on Draco's situation. "When you cursed my dad... did you mean to hurt him?" Scorpius asked. Harry frowned in confusion. "What?" he asked. Cursed?

"Sectumsempra," Scorpius said, and Harry felt a pang of guilt in his chest, the guilt he had had ever since the day he had almost killed Draco.

"Of course I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't even know what the spell did," Harry said softly. How did Scorpius know about this?

Harry had to know why Draco had told Scorpius. He knew it wasn’t any of his business, but Harry had always been too curious for his own good.  


“Scorpius, if you don’t mind me asking, why did your dad tell you this?” Harry couldn’t help asking. Scorpius looked surprised.  


“He didn’t tell me. I found out myself.” That made much more sense to Harry. Draco didn’t seem like the type to discuss personal things with anyone, even his son. 

“How did you find out?” Harry asked, curious. Scorpius looked hesitant for a moment before beginning to talk.  
“It’s kinda a long story,” he said. Harry sat down beside him, in the chair.  
“I’ve got time,” Harry said.

And so Harry listened as Scorpius told him everything that had happened, from the moment he stepped into the pensieve to when his dad hit him. Harry was filled with horror at the descriptions of abuse that Scorpius gave. He couldn’t believe that Draco’s worst fear had been his own father. How could a child fear their own parent so much? Harry couldn’t understand. Maybe it was because he never had his own father figure, but even in his school days, he had seen how a father should treat their children because of the Weasleys, and even Hermione’s parents. He felt so guilty for not having seen the signs in Draco.

Now that he thought about it, it was so obvious. Draco had always been his normal, arrogant, loud self until his father came. The moment his father was around him, he would tense and become quiet immediately. Harry remembered Borgin and Burkes in his second year, when he had been in the cabinet. Draco had been nothing like his normal self, and Harry had wondered how that was the same boy who showed off and bragged at school. And in their fourth year, when Harry had seen Lucius and Draco at the Quidditch World Cup, he recalled seeing Lucius hit Draco on the stomach. Hard enough to bruise. Draco had obviously been in pain, but hid it well.

And he had made a pensieve. Harry remembered when he had gone into one with Dumbledore, when they were learning about Tom Riddle’s past. And then again, when Snape had given him the memories.  
Suddenly, Harry realized. The pensieve was proof! Proof of the child abuse that Lucius Malfoy was guilty of. If Harry managed to show people this, they may request a law against child abuse, if one didn’t already exist. And it helped that the Minister of Magic was one of his best friends. Then he could send Lucius Malfoy to prison once again.

“Scorpius,” Harry said. He didn’t know how to ask Scorpius if he could see the memories. After all, they were Scorpius’s dad’s memories, and Scorpius would not want to show Harry. Harry had to convince him somehow.  


Scorpius was looking at him. “Yeah?”  


“Would you… be willing to show me those memories?” As expected, Scorpius shook his head.  


“I can’t show you. I wasn’t even supposed to see them,” he answered.  
Harry thought hard. What could he say that would convince Scorpius?

“Scorpius. Think about this. If we manage to get this out to the public, what do you think will happen?” Harry asked, watching Scorpius’s reaction. Scorpius’s eyes were becoming wide. He really was a smart kid, Harry thought, watching as Scorpius immediately understood what he was saying.  


“He could be sent to prison!” Scorpius said excitedly. Harry nodded. Now he was seeing Scorpius’s Slytherin side.  


“Exactly. So will you show me?” Harry asked. Scorpius frowned before nodding.  
“Come with me. I’ll take you to my dad’s room, where the pensieve is,”  
Harry smiled. Now was his chance to help Draco, something he had never done before.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry decides to look through Draco's memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hate school so much its sooo stressful. I'll try my hardest to update more often. Hope you like this chapter! 
> 
> Warning: Non graphic torture and implied sexual assault. If you don't like that, you can skip this chapter.

Harry found himself in the sitting room in Malfoy Manor for the second time in less than four hours. He looked around, and he couldn't help remembering what had happened in this house during the war. When he, Ron, and Hermione had been captured and taken here. He could still hear the echoes of Hermione’s screams. 

But now that he had a chance to actually look around, he realized that it looked very different from when he had been here last. It was bright, not as dark and gloomy as it had been back then. The windows were open, with sunlight drifting through. The house was not as elegant and intimidating as it had been. It looked more comfortable, more like a home than just a house. It had a more cheerful aura overall. 

“Mr. Potter? Are you ok?” Harry jumped when he heard Scorpius’s voice.  


“Yes, I’m fine. Where’s the pensieve?” Harry asked. Scorpius pointed upstairs. Harry had never been upstairs in Malfoy Manor before, and he definitely wasn’t looking forward to it. They went upstairs, and Scorpius led him down a seemingly endless hallway of rooms, until they reached the one at the very end, one of the largest ones.

Harry expected to see green decorations, snakes, and maybe a coffin in Draco Malfoy’s room, but it was surprisingly normal. It seemed unnaturally neat and elegant, but besides that, completely ordinary. There was one master bed in the middle of the room with chairs near it, and a bookshelf on the far side of the room. Harry tried to imagine Draco in here all alone while Scorpius was away at school, and he felt a pang in his chest. Harry couldn’t imagine how Draco had felt when Scorpius and Albus had went missing. At least Harry had all of his family and friends to support him. Draco had been completely alone, worrying that his only remaining family might be gone. Harry didn’t even want to know how terrifying that must have been.

“Here.” Scorpius pulled out one of the books on the bookshelf, and Harry watched in surprise as a pensieve came out, seemingly from inside the bookshelf. He stared at it for a moment, then turned to Scorpius.  


“Can I…” he asked, motioning to the pensieve. Scorpius nodded, stepping back.  
Harry slowly put his head into the pensieve, and felt everything around him change. 

He saw all of the memories Scorpius was talking about, and he was horrified. He hadn’t thought of what Scorpius and Draco had told him as real until he saw it for himself. He could see how terrified Draco was of his father, but he obviously idolized and loved his father as well. Harry could see it in the way he looked at the man, with a mixture of fear and admiration. He practically worshipped the ground his father walked on, and Lucius treated him like an object. That was the most heartbreaking realization that Harry came to.  


How could Lucius be so cruel to his own son? He had put so much pressure on Draco, made him strive to be perfect but never succeed. He had broken his own son. 

Even things that had seemed so funny to Harry in school didn’t seem funny anymore. Like when Hermione had punched Draco. Back then, Harry had thought that Draco deserved it, because it was his fault that Buckbeak was sentenced to death. But now, he saw signs he had missed before. Signs of Draco’s abuse. Like how afraid Draco seemed, not of Hermione, but of the threat of her using her wand on him. The way he backed instinctively into the wall behind him and closed his eyes, whimpering. As if he expected Hermione to hurt him, even though Hermione would never seriously hurt anyone with her wand. Harry had thought that he was acting that way because he was a coward, but now he wasn’t so sure. 

Even though Draco had been a rude, prejudiced bully, he had also just been a child, who didn’t deserve any of the pain and abuse that he got. And Harry wished that he could’ve done anything to help Draco.  
But they were all adults now. And Harry knew from experience, or rather, his son’s experience, that it was not possible to change the past. No matter how much he wanted to. 

Watching Sectumsempra again only made him even guilter, watching himself hurting Draco. He had almost killed Draco when he should’ve been comforting him. 

When the Sectumsempra scene ended, Harry expected to be taken out of the pensieve, but there seemed to be more memories that Scorpius hadn't told him about. Either he hadn't seen them or he chose not to tell Harry.

Draco and Snape apparated into an unfamiliar hallway, and Draco stumbled and fell to his knees. Tears poured down his cheeks, and Harry grimaced and looked away. When was this? 

Snape kneeled down beside him and patted his back quietly. “Draco, the Dark Lord is waiting for you,” he said, almost apologetically. 

Draco took a deep breath and glared at Snape through his tears. “This is all your fault! If you hadn't come in at the last minute, I could’ve done it!” Harry gasped. This was right after Dumbledore’s death!  


Draco looked terrified at the prospect of facing Voldemort, and Harry couldn’t blame him. But Harry also knew that Draco wouldn’t have killed Dumbledore. He wasn’t a killer, and Snape seemed to know that too. 

“Draco, stop denying what you know,” Snape sneered. “If I hadn’t done it, Dumbledore would still be alive.”  
Draco’s entire body was trembling.  


“He’s going to kill me! I don't want to die!” Draco's voice was high pitched and hysterical with terror. He sounded so childlike, so vulnerable. Only then did Harry realize how young Draco had been. He had only been sixteen, one year older than Albus was now, and he had been told to kill one of the most powerful wizards in the world, the consequence of failing being death for himself and his family.

Snape’s expression softened. “You will be punished, but I don’t think he will kill you,” he said, attempting to be comforting. Draco let out a sob, and Snape awkwardly patted his shoulder.  


“Draco, you have to stop crying. You don’t want the Dark Lord to be angrier than he already is,” Snape said, more gently than Harry had ever heard him speak before. The man seemed to really care about Draco, even if he didn’t show it often. 

Draco let out a shuddering breath and straightened, wiping away his tears. His gray eyes were fearful, but he had managed to erase all signs that he had been crying. Snape gave him a nod and began walking towards the doors that were on the other side of the hallway, where Harry knew Voldemort was. What had he done to Draco for his failure? 

Snape pushed open the doors and stepped in, Draco right behind him. Now, it was obvious to Harry that they were in Malfoy Manor. Voldemort didn't seem to be there yet.  
Harry looked around the room and saw Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy standing in the room, along with Bellatrix Lestrange. Narcissa had tears in her eyes. 

"Draco!" Narcissa cried out, practically running to her son and hugging him tightly. ] 

"Mother," Draco sobbed. Narcissa held him tightly in her arms, murmuring comforting words in his ears. Lucius walked forward, leaning heavily on his cane. He looked horrible, and Harry assumed that this was when he had just escaped from Azkaban. That would explain why he looked so weak and tired.Draco's jaw dropped when he saw his father, and he pulled away from his mother. 

“Father?” he gasped, shock replacing fear for the moment. 

"Draco," Lucius breathed. There was relief in his eyes, relief at seeing his son ok. Harry didn't understand the man at all. First he hurt his son, and then he seemed glad to see him? 

Draco bit his lip and lowered his head, unable to meet his father's gaze. He looked ashamed to have been caught crying. 

"I'm sorry, Father," he whispered. His voice cracked at the end. 

Lucius lifted a shaky hand and put his fingers under Draco's chin, pulling his head up. "Look at me, boy," he ordered, but his voice wasn't harsh. In fact, he sounded almost gentle. Harry frowned at the sudden change in behavior. 

Draco's eyes shot up to meet his father's immediately. Lucius tilted his son's face to the side, as if examining him. "You've grown since the last time I saw you, Draco," he said softly. 

Draco looked at him, puzzled. "Yes, Father," he said uncertainly. "It's been nearly a year." Lucius opened his mouth, but Narcissa interrupted. 

"What happened?" Narcissa asked, looking at Snape and Draco questioningly. "Is Dumbledore dead?" 

Snape's expression was grim. "Yes... I killed him." Narcissa's face paled slightly, but she nodded. Draco shivered in fear. 

"Draco has failed! He must be punished," Bellatrix cackled. Narcissa turned to glare at her. 

There was a sudden noise of apparition that made all the inhabitants in the room jump. Lucius, Narcissa, and Bellatrix immediately moved back, their heads lowered. Voldemort himself was standing in front of Draco and Snape. 

“My Lord,” Snape said, bowing low. Draco copied him shakily.  
Voldemort looked at Draco. “Is the deed done, Draco?” he asked.  


“Yes, My Lord.” Draco’s voice was shaking so badly that Harry almost couldn’t understand what he was saying. Voldemort’s cold eyes watched him.  


“I see. And who was it who killed him?” Voldemort asked.  
Draco's face somehow became even whiter, and he didn't say anything. 

Snape spoke instead. “My Lord, I killed Dumbledore. But Draco was the one who brought your Death Eaters into the school using the Vanishing Cabinet,” he said. 

“But he didn’t complete his task,” Voldemort hissed. “And for that, he must be punished.” Harry’s heart dropped, and Draco’s eyes widened in terror. His eyes flitted to his mother, who looked horrified.  


“My Lord, he’s only a child, and he managed to fix the Vanishing Cabinet!” Narcissa cried out. “And Dumbledore is still dead!”  


“Quiet,” Voldemort commanded, his red eyes never leaving Draco’s pale face. He lifted his wand, and without warning, hissed “Crucio!”  
Harry winced as Draco fell to the ground, screaming in pain and writhing. 

“NO!” Narcissa screamed, running towards her son. Bellatrix grabbed her arm and hissed something into her ear, something Harry couldn’t hear. Narcissa glared at her and struggled to escape her grip, but Bellatrix held her tightly. Snape’s hand jerked, like he wanted to do something to help, but he only lowered his eyes to the ground. 

Lucius seemed unable to watch and looked away with a pained expression that almost made Harry feel pity towards him.  
But then he saw how Lucius didn’t do anything but stand there as his only son was tortured brutally, and his hatred for Draco’s father returned in full force. 

Voldemort stopped the curse after a couple of minutes, and Draco gasped for breath. His arms were shaking horribly as he struggled to sit up. Narcissa cried as she tried to get to her son, but Bellatrix still hadn’t let her go. Voldemort looked at Narcissa coldly.

“Stop,” Voldemort commanded. “Your son has failed me. He must be punished,”  
Narcissa shook her head wildly, her eyes on Draco’s face, which was twisted in agony. Voldemort pointed his wand at Draco once again, and his eyes widened in alarm.  


“No!” Draco cried out. Harry knew exactly how Draco felt. The excruciating pain that consumed the whole world, and how he would do anything, even die, to escape it. 

“No, please, punish me instead, I’ll do anything!” Narcissa begged. Bellatrix glared at her.  


“My Lord, please have mercy on my son.” Lucius spoke calmly, but Harry could hear the shakiness and despair in his voice. Did he love his son? Harry couldn’t tell, but he certainly cared enough to ask Voldemort to stop torturing Draco.  


Voldemort laughed, the cold, high pitched laugh that made Harry shudder. Harry tried to forget the memories of that laugh, that had come in his nightmares so often in the weeks after the war. 

“Crucio,” he said dispassionately, and Draco’s agonized screams echoed off the walls once again. Narcissa was sobbing, and Voldemort laughed again. This time, Voldemort held it on Draco for longer before taking it off. Harry couldn’t imagine the pain Draco was in. When Harry had experienced the curse, Voldemort had held it on him for less than a minute. And even in that short amount of time, it had felt like years before the pain had disappeared.

Draco had tears of pain running down his cheeks, and Narcissa screamed Draco’s name. She struggled against Bellatrix and Lucius, who were both holding her back now. Snape only watched, stony faced.  


Anger filled Harry at Lucius’s behavior. How could he watch his own child being tortured and not do anything about it? And even if he was too afraid to help his son, how could he keep Narcissa from helping Draco? But then he thought about it. Voldemort would likely have killed Narcissa if she had intervened. 

“No, please,” Draco gasped as Voldemort pointed his wand at him again. “Please,” he pleaded again. Voldemort’s cruel laughter resonated around the room.  


“Your son is weak, Lucius. Only two curses and he’s begging me to stop,” he said softly, turning to Lucius. Lucius stood rigidly.  
“My Lord, he’s young…” he said.  


“Crucio,” Voldemort hissed, and Draco screamed again.  


“Please, My Lord!” Narcissa cried.  


“My Lord, hasn’t he been punished enough?” Lucius asked shakily.

Voldemort’s red eyes flashed, and Lucius immediately fell silent.  
“You should want him to be punished Lucius, for being so weak.” Voldemort hissed cruelly.  


“My Lord…” Lucius’s voice was strangled, a quality that Harry had never heard in his voice before. He was fine with beating his son with his cane, but the cruciatus curse seemed like too much, even for Lucius.  


“Punish your son, Lucius. Or I will have no use for him anymore,” Voldemort hissed. Lucius pointed his wand straight at Draco with only the slightest hesitation. His gray eyes, so similar to Draco’s, were suddenly impassive. 

Harry watched numbly as Draco looked up at his father in absolute terror. He didn’t even seem to doubt for a moment that his father would hurt him.  
If any of Harry’s children ever looked at him with that look of terror, Harry would not be able to stand it. He would rather die than ever see his children afraid of him. How could Lucius bear seeing his only son afraid of him like this? And not just this once, but all of his life. How could Lucius live knowing that he caused that fear in his child? 

“Please, Father,” Draco whispered, meeting his father's eyes pleadingly. Lucius took a deep breath.  


“Crucio,” he said softly. Narcissa yelled furiously at Lucius, begging him to stop, but he didn’t. She was being physically restrained by her sister and another Death Eater wearing a mask. At least she cared enough to struggle, Harry thought angrily. Unlike Lucius, who was torturing his own son because he had been ordered to.

Lucius held the curse on Draco, keeping his eyes on the ground and away from his son writhing and sobbing in unbearable pain. He only lifted the curse when Draco’s eyes rolled back in his head and he lay still, unconscious. Lucius dropped his wand and it clattered on the floor, but he didn’t dare move to pick it up. Narcissa cried with relief, seeming to believe that her son’s torture was over. Harry wasn’t so sure. 

“Enneverate,” Voldemort hissed, and Draco whined in protest as he came back into consciousness.  


“No,” Draco whimpered, his voice now raspy from screaming so much. Harry hoped that Voldemort would have mercy on him now at least. 

Voldemort’s red eyes were gleeful as he hissed “Again, Lucius”. Lucius slowly leaned down to pick up his wand and struggled to his feet again. It looked as though every move pained him.  


“Crucio,” Lucius said, and Draco was writhing on the floor again. His screams were hoarse, and Voldemort laughed.  


Lucius ended the curse quicker than last time.  


“Are you losing heart, Lucius?” Voldemort sneered.  


“Of course not, My Lord,” Lucius said quietly, pointing his wand at Draco again.  


“Please,” Draco whimpered, cowering away when the wand was pointed at him once again. His gray eyes met his father’s pleadingly. 

“Crucio,” Lucius said. Harry winced and looked away, but he could still hear Draco’s wails of agony.  


"Stop," Voldemort commanded, and Lucius immediately ended the curse. 

“You should be grateful to me, for I am a merciful master. I will not kill your son, but if he ever fails me again, I will not hesitate,” Voldemort threatened. 

“Yes, My Lord.” Lucius bowed his head, and Voldemort disapperated. Immediately, Narcissa shoved Bellatrix away and ran for Draco. She pulled him into her lap. All the other Death Eaters except for Snape and Lucius left the room, and they went over to where Draco and Narcissa were sitting. Draco only looked half conscious, and his eyes were closed.  


“Draco, I’m so sorry,” Narcissa choked out.  
Snape’s expression was dark. “I have some pain relieving potions. I’ll get them.” He walked out of the room swiftly. 

“Draco…” Lucius began, but he seemed to not know what to say. He looked almost guilty.  


“Lucius,” Narcissa glared at her husband. “I think you should leave. We will talk later.”  
Lucius looked like he was going to protest, but seeing the anger in his wife, he seemed to change his mind. He looked almost… hurt when he turned around to leave the room. But Harry couldn’t muster anymore pity for him. 

The memory changed again, and Harry found himself in a dark room.  
Draco was in there too, and it looked like the dungeons, before Luna or Ollivander had been kept in them. Draco was pale, and he was tapping his foot nervously. He was wearing casual clothing, or about as casual as clothing was for a Malfoy. 

Bellatrix Lestrange entered the room, and Harry felt hatred churn in his chest. This was the woman who had killed Sirius, tortured Hermione and countless others, and was the mother of Delphi, the woman who had almost killed his son. 

“Draco, sweetheart,” she cooed, almost as if she were talking to a dog. She came forward to touch Draco’s face, cupping it in her hands. Draco shuddered and looked up at her, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Harry couldn’t blame him.  


“Yes, Aunt Bella?” Draco drawled, but Harry could hear the fear that he was trying his hardest to hide. Aunt? Harry had almost forgotten that Bellatrix was Draco’s aunt. That meant that he and Delphi were…cousins. He wondered what that was like for Draco, having to fight against his own family. He had never thought about how hard it must have been for Draco to turn away from the beliefs he had been raised with his entire life. 

“Have you been practicing your Occlumency?” she purred, watching in delight as Draco quickly nodded his head. This was before Dumbledore’s death, Harry realized. When Draco had first gotten his task.  


“Good. Shall we see how much you practiced?” Bellatrix asked, watching Draco’s pale face closely. Before he could answer, she hissed “Legilimens!” 

Harry saw the shock on Draco’s face before he was plunged into flashes of Draco’s memories, like what had happened when Snape had done it to him. Flashes of Draco’s past, some that Harry had seen and more, flooded his vision. The flashes stopped almost as soon as they had started, and Draco was on the floor, panting. He sat up, shivering. He really was good at Occlumency, Harry thought. He had managed to push Bellatrix, a powerful witch, out of his mind almost immediately even when he hadn’t been expecting it. Bellatrix studied him disapprovingly. 

“I see that you haven’t been practicing,” she whispered.  
She leaned down until her face was right beside his. Draco’s breathing became rapid in panic. Disgust filled Harry as he watched the two on the ground. One fearful and one gleeful. Harry didn’t want to see what would happen next. He hoped so much that Bellatrix wouldn’t do anything to Draco. 

Bellatrix’s eyes suddenly flashed in anger and Draco flinched back.  
“This is your punishment for not perfecting Occlumency,” she cackled. “The Dark Lord would do much worse, my dear nephew.”

Draco trembled, and she caressed his face. He began to struggle when Bellatrix pushed him to the floor, lying almost on top of him. Touching him in places that shouldn’t be touched by an older woman on a teenage boy. Especially if that teenage boy was her nephew. 

“Shh, don’t move. Remember, you deserve this for disappointing me, your father, your mother, everyone,” Bellatrix whispered. Anger filled Harry at that. Draco didn’t deserve any of this. 

“Get off of me!” Draco tried to sound strong, but his voice came out as a panicked squeak. Harry’s heart twinged at the sight of Draco, helplessly pinned to the floor by his psychotic aunt. He couldn’t watch as a child, around James’s age, was being hurt in such a horrible way. He tried not to imagine his own children trapped like that, begging to be let go. 

Draco looked up at her face pleadingly, not bothering to hide his fear anymore.  
She laughed, a laugh that gave Harry chills. And then filled him with anger. She was laughing while her nephew was afraid, begging her to let him go.  
She was even worse than Lucius in that way. Lucius had never seemed happy while hurting Draco, only as if he thought it was necessary. While that was no excuse for his actions, at least he didn’t enjoy it. Bellatrix hurt people for her own enjoyment, as if that gave her happiness.

Her hands went on his chest and slowly, deliberately, began to unbutton his white shirt. Draco kicked frantically, and she moved off of him, eyes flashing in anger. "Didn't I tell you to stay still?" she hissed. She slowly pulled out her wand. "Maybe after this you will. Crucio!" 

Draco’s gray eyes widened, and he screamed and writhed on the floor for a few moments, until Bellatrix took off the curse. He gasped for breath and looked at his aunt in horror. 

“You- you used an Unforgivable on me,” he choked, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. Harry realized that this must have been the first time he had felt the extreme agony of the Cruciatus Curse. "I'll tell Mother!" 

Bellatrix sneered at him. “Your mother is also my sister, and my younger one at that. And you won’t tell her, will you? You don’t want her to be more worried than she already is, right?" Draco opened his mouth but didn't say anything. 

"You will listen now, won't you?" she said, and Draco nodded weakly, obviously hoping to avoid another round of the Cruciatus. Now Harry understood why Draco had looked so terrified of Bellatrix in the previous memory. 

She slowly leaned down again, and he shuddered, eyes wide in panic now. Harry was horrified. He hoped that what he was thinking wouldn’t happen next. 

Draco didn't move or struggle this time. He looked resigned. His pale, scrawny chest glistened with sweat. Harry winced when he caught sight of faded, but still visible, bruises on Draco’s chest. He had no doubt about where they had come from.  
Bellatrix ran her hands over his chest, making Draco shiver. Then she began to move her hands lower and lower… 

Harry couldn’t watch anymore. He had to give Draco at least some of the privacy he deserved. He turned away, focusing his attention on the dark, stone ground instead of at the two people. He tried to block out Draco’s pants and whimpers. This was child molestation!

“Please…” he heard Draco whimper.  
“Be quiet, darling. Calm down,” Bellatrix muttered.  
Draco took shuddering breaths and sniffed occasionally, letting Harry know that he was crying. Harry’s heart was hurting, and he wanted to help Draco, to save this child from what was happening to him. 

There was silence. Harry still didn’t dare turn around to see what was happening. His heart pounded as he strained to listen.  
Then, he heard movement behind him and tensed, hoping that Bellatrix wasn’t doing anything else. He slowly turned around and sighed in relief to see Bellatrix was standing up now, jeering at Draco, who was still laying on the floor. His shirt was back on, but still unbuttoned.

Harry couldn’t read his face, couldn’t see what he was thinking. His eyes were empty. Harry shuddered at the deadness in Draco’s eyes. 

"You did so well, darling," Bellatrix cooed. "You are such a good little boy." She moved closer to Draco, who let out a whimper and scrambled away from her, eyes wide in panic. Her smile widened, showing her teeth. 

"I'll be seeing you soon!" she cackled. Draco shuddered. Harry shivered, and wondered if this had happened more than once to Draco. If this wasn't the only time he'd had his innocence stripped away by his psychotic aunt. 

Only after she was safely out and the door was shut did Draco begin to sob. Harry wanted to comfort him. But he couldn’t. He could only watch helplessly as Draco pulled his knees to his chest like a child, tears pouring down his face. He was trembling uncontrollably, and Harry's heart broke. 

The scene shifted again, and Harry hoped that this was the last one.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sees the last memory. What will he do with the knowledge?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while, I've been busy with school stuff.  
> I was wondering how this encounter would've gone, cause it was described in the Cursed Child, so I decided to make my own portrayal! Hope you like it!

Harry found himself standing beside a Draco Malfoy much more similar to the one he knew now. Though he looked younger, with less wrinkles, and his ponytail was slightly shorter. He looked to be in his early 20s, standing next to a brown haired woman who Harry only recognized vaguely: Astoria Greengrass. The woman who Draco loved so much he would be willing to sell his soul to get her back. Harry had only ever seen her alive once, at the platform on Albus and Scorpius’s first year of Hogwarts.  


Harry couldn’t imagine losing Ginny the way Draco had lost Astoria. He couldn’t imagine living if that ever happened. 

The two were standing in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor. Draco was clearly tense, gazing past the gates at the menacing mansion that lay inside. He looked lost in thought until Astoria gently nudged him, obviously telling him that they should go in. He jumped in surprise. 

“Draco, they’re your parents,” she said softly. “They will understand. After all, my parents did.” She gave him an encouraging smile.  


Harry furrowed his brow. Why did Draco look so nervous to introduce Astoria to his parents? After all, she seemed like the type of person his parents would want him to marry. She was a pure blooded woman who was in Slytherin. Then he remembered that Draco had said something about his father not approving of Astoria, because she was “muggle loving” or something like that.  
Draco turned to look at Astoria gravely  


“You don’t know my father,” he said seriously. Astoria’s smile faltered somewhat, but she managed to keep it up. 

“Let’s get this over with,” she said, taking his hand. Harry saw the expensive looking diamond ring glinting on her finger, and suddenly he understood. Draco had proposed to Astoria without telling his parents, and now they were engaged. Now he understood why Draco was so nervous. He had to tell his father that he was going to marry a woman Lucius didn’t approve of. 

“Please try not to insult them,” Draco sighed. “They already dislike you enough.”  
She smirked. “I’ll try, but if they insult me, I’ll have to do it back.”  


At Draco’s pleading look, she relented. “Fine, I won’t say anything.”  
Draco attempted to smile back, but a grimace came out instead. He gripped her hand tightly and together they began the walk through the front garden towards the door. Harry followed behind them, curious to see how Draco had convinced his parents to let him marry Astoria.

The two of them reached the front door, and Draco took a deep breath before touching the surprisingly ordinary doorknob. It turned golden, and the doors opened. Harry was fascinated. He assumed that only if members of the Malfoy family touched the doorknob, it would open. That obviously wasn’t the case now, as Harry had been able to go to Malfoy Manor without any problem. And during the war, it must have been taken off as well. 

Draco looked nervously at Astoria, then lead the way into the manor. He nodded at a house elf that was standing in the hall; the same one Harry had seen before. Tiffy was her name, he remembered. 

“Master! What can I do for you?” Tiffy said, bowing her head low.  


“Get my mother and father,” Draco commanded. Astoria frowned at him. "No please?" she said, swatting him gently on the arm. A hint of a smile crossed Draco's face. "Fine. Please, Tiffy?" 

“Of course, Master Draco,” the elf said and disapperated. A few seconds passed, and the two senior Malfoys entered the room. Draco smiled at them hesitantly. 

"Draco!" Narcissa said, looking surprised and pleased. Lucius nodded at his son, then sneered when he caught sight of Astoria. 

“Hello Father, Mother. I hope you remember Astoria?” He gestured towards her, and she stepped forward, her smile now gone. It was obvious that she didn’t like Draco’s parents. Harry couldn't blame her. 

“Yes, of course we remember her,” Lucius snapped. Draco nodded nervously. Astoria looked like she was about to snap something back, but she forced a smile when Draco gave her a desperate look.  


“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,” she said coolly.  
Lucius ignored her, eyes only on his son, while Narcissa smiled at her reluctantly. 

She looked at her husband sternly, as if warning him to be polite.  


“Sit down, Draco. You too, Astoria,” she said. The two sat on the chairs opposite the senior Malfoys. Draco’s body was unnaturally rigid and tense, and his hands were fidgeting nervously in his lap. But Astoria looked completely relaxed. 

“Well, Draco. What gives us the honor of meeting with dear Ms. Greengrass again?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at his son. “I would’ve thought that you had come to your senses and left her, because of the… discussion we had last time?” Draco flinched, and Harry didn’t even want to know what Lucius had said or done last time. Astoria glared at Lucius but didn’t say anything. 

Harry could tell how much the war and Azkaban had changed Lucius. He looked tired and much less intimidating than he had been. But he still managed to strike fear in people when he wanted to, like he was doing to Draco now.  
He continued to look at his son, clearly expecting him to answer. 

Draco cleared his throat.  
“Father, Astoria and I have decided to…” he trailed off at the end, his voice shaking slightly. Lucius watched him carefully.  
“Yes, Draco? Do continue,” he drawled. Draco let out a shuddering breath and looked desperately at Astoria.  
Even as an adult, Draco was obviously terrified and didn’t want to anger his father. 

There was silence for a few seconds. Astoria turned to look at Draco in concern, and saw his inability to talk. She lifted her left hand, with the ring on it. Narcissa gasped and Lucius stared at it, as if he was unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

“We’re engaged,” Astoria stated firmly. Draco’s hands started to tremble.  


“Draco. Is this a joke?” Lucius’s voice had gone soft, dangerous. Draco’s gaze hit the floor.  


“No, Father, it’s true.” He attempted to sound strong, but his voice was still shaking horribly.  


Lucius slowly stood up, holding his cane tightly in his hand. Draco slightly shrank back in his seat. 

“I told you that we don’t approve of her. I told you that she is a disgrace to purebloods. Yet you decide to attach yourself to her?” Lucius hissed at Draco, walking forward until he was in front of Draco’s chair. Draco stared wide eyed up at his father. Astoria stood up as well and glared at Lucius in complete hatred. 

“It doesn’t matter if you approve of me or not. Draco can choose what he wants to do!” Lucius ignored her completely once again. 

“She has some disease, doesn’t she? Think about the Malfoy line. Is she even capable of having children? Do you really want to marry someone who will die anyways?” Lucius growled. Harry gasped in horror. How could Lucius be so uncaring towards his son’s fiance? His son’s feelings? Draco's eyes narrowed, and Astoria's mouth had dropped open. She looked speechless for the first time in this memory.  


“Don’t talk to her like that,” Draco snapped, standing up from his chair. Then he seemed to realize what he had said and his eyes widened. Astoria beamed at Draco and took his hand, and that seemed to give him the courage to say what he needed to. He took a deep breath. 

Harry couldn’t hold back a smile. Draco was standing up to his father for love.  


Lucius stepped back in surprise, but recovered quickly and narrowed his eyes. “What did you say to me?” he asked slowly. His voice had gone low, dangerous, and it gave Harry chills. He noticed that Draco’s body was shaking. Whether in fear or anger he didn’t know. 

“I don’t care about the Malfoy line, Father. I only care about Astoria. I love her, and she loves me. I’m going to marry her. No matter what you say. Please try to understand that.” He looked at his father right in the eyes as he said this. Astoria glared at Lucius.  


“I love Draco, Mr. Malfoy. And neither of us care about what you think,” she said fiercely.  
Lucius looked shocked as he stared at the couple in disbelief. He seemed to have thought that he had full control over his son. Harry grinned at the fact that he was wrong.

Draco was braver than everyone knew, including himself, Harry thought. His father was his worst fear, and he was disobeying him for Astoria.

Lucius’s shock quickly turned into rage, and his hand flew across Draco’s face. Harry gasped at the loud smack, and the red mark on Draco's face after. Astoria gasped and Draco raised a trembling hand up to his cheek, wincing as he did. 

Harry had expected something like this to happen, judging by the other memories. But even if Draco wasn’t a child anymore, he was still Lucius’s son. And it just wasn’t right. Harry could never imagine hurting his children like this.  


Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Narcissa intake a sharp breath and look away as well. Her blue eyes looked suspiciously wet.

“Draco!” Astoria gasped. 

“How dare you disrespect me. I am your father, and only I know what is best for you,” he hissed. His gray eyes were furious, anger making him look more frightening than he had been before. 

All signs of Draco’s previous anger and bravery was gone, replaced with fright. Although Lucius and Draco were now about the same height, Draco still looked smaller now that he looked so scared. Harry had never seen Draco look like this before, at least in adulthood.

“Stop it!” Astoria shrieked. She pushed Lucius out of the way and grabbed Draco’s arm.  
“I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t mean to disrespect you,” Draco muttered quietly. Astoria stared at him in disbelief. 

“What? He hurt you and you’re apologizing? He should be apologizing!” She glared at Lucius.  
Lucius ignored her again and moved towards Draco. Draco took a shaky step away from his father.

"Are you willing to anger me to marry this shameful girl?" Lucius asked. His gray eyes watched his son closely. But Draco stayed silent. Lucius seemed to take that as a yes, and sighed. He looked almost sad for a few moments, and then his eyes hardened. 

“You are a disgrace to the Malfoy name. To me,” Lucius snarled. He shook his head and took one last look at his son before turning around to walk out of the room. Draco’s shoulders slumped and he looked down. Narcissa looked at her son helplessly.

“He’s just upset,” she said softly. “Draco...” 

Draco didn’t say anything. He looked miserable. Narcissa looked like she was going to comfort him, and then sighed sadly and left as well, leaving a devastated Draco looking after her. Harry knew that Draco loved his parents, despite what they did to him. He couldn't imagine the sorrow he was feeling now. Couldn’t they see that they were breaking him with their insults and inability to accept him as he was? Their own son was hurting because of them, and they didn’t even notice. 

“Are you alright, Draco?” Astoria asked worriedly. Draco didn’t answer, still staring longingly at the door from which his parents had left. He didn’t move until Astoria gently tugged at his arm, leading him to the door.  
They went out of the house and walked into the large garden slowly. Draco practically collapsed into a bench in the garden. 

“We shouldn’t have come here.” He looked away from her. Astoria watched him sorrowfully and sat down beside him, putting her hand on his back.

“I was always a disappointment to them. Especially my father,” Draco said, his expression unreadable. “I was never the son they wanted, but now they hate me. Even my mother.” His voice broke at the end. 

“They don’t hate you,” Astoria said softly. “It’s my fault. I’m the one they hate. I’m sorry.” Draco looked at her in surprise.

“No. It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault,” Draco said. Astoria smiled tentatively, but she looked conflicted. 

“Draco, your father… hit you.” She sounded unsure as she said it, as if she didn’t know what to say.  
Harry saw that Draco’s normally emotionless grey eyes were now rimmed in red, and he looked nothing like the stoic Draco Malfoy that Harry knew.  
He blinked in surprise. “It’s alright, I’m fine,” he said.

“It’s not alright,” Astoria said firmly. “What he did to you was wrong.” She lifted her hand and gently touched the mark on his face, making him flinch.  


“Sorry,” she said, quickly pulling her hand away.  


“Don’t be sorry. I’ve had worse,” he said bitterly. Harry winced at that, because he knew it was true. And he couldn’t help but feel like he was at least partly responsible. He and everyone else hadn't noticed. Even the professors, except Lupin. And he hadn't even done anything about it.

Astoria’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” she asked slowly. Draco only sighed heavily.  
"It's nothing," he said quietly. “No, tell me. Did your father hurt you worse than this?” Her voice was quiet, but when Harry looked at her, he saw that she was furious. 

Draco fidgeted uncomfortably. “Astoria-”  
“Tell me!” 

Draco sighed in frustration. “What do you want to hear? That my father beat me? That he punished me whenever I disappointed him?” 

Astoria looked horrified. “He beat you? With his...cane?” she whispered. Draco grimaced.  
“I don’t want to talk about this,” he said. 

“But he abused you! I’ll kill him!” She jumped up from her seat angrily. Draco jumped up as well and grabbed her arm roughly. 

“It doesn’t matter! It was a long time ago!” Draco snapped. Astoria looked taken aback at Draco’s sudden anger. 

“Let go of my arm, Draco,” she said quietly. Draco exhaled heavily and released his tight grip on her arm. 

“Sorry,” he muttered guiltily. Astoria nodded. 

“I know,” she said. “Draco, that man hurt you. You didn’t deserve that.” She took his hands and looked straight into his eyes, begging him to listen to her. Draco looked doubtful.

“That man is my father,” he said firmly. 

Astoria sighed sadly and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He looked surprised for a moment before relaxing into her embrace and putting his arms around her waist.

“It’s ok, Draco. You’re alright, darling.” That was a mistake. Draco jerked away from her as though he had been burned, panic flashing in his eyes. 

“No!” he yelled. Astoria stared at him in shock.  


“Don’t call me that. Please,” he pleaded. Harry realized that darling was what Bellatrix had called him while hurting him. No wonder he didn’t want to be called that. Astoria looked at him sadly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly. Draco hesitated. 

“I-no.” he whispered. Harry knew exactly what he meant. Some things were just too painful to talk about. 

“It’s ok,” she whispered back, and Harry could tell that she desperately wanted to help him but didn’t know what to do. 

The war had scarred everyone in some way, whether physical scars or mental scars. But it had damaged some people more than others. And Draco was obviously one of the more damaged ones. 

He returned his attention to the memory, and watched as Draco let out a sob. Harry suddenly felt as though he was venturing in a very, very private memory as Astoria pulled him close again, letting him sob into her chest. Of course, all of these memories were private, he thought with a pang of guilt. But this one seemed like something different. It was a personal memory of Draco's, one of the woman he loved, who he would never see again. It made sense for him to want some memories with her that were private.

Harry felt extremely uncomfortable now. Especially since Draco was an adult in this memory. He hoped that Draco never found out that Harry had seen these memories. His most private and painful ones. Draco would hate him once again, probably even more than he had at school. And this time he would have a good reason. 

He decided that if he needed to use the memories to charge Lucius, he wouldn’t use any of the war memories. Or the ones after. Those didn’t have anything to do with Lucius. And he understood how Draco must want to keep these private, because they were painful. Some things were better left in the past. 

But some weren’t. And as Harry saw the memories fade away, and felt himself rising up, out of the memories, he knew that he had to help Draco. He had been suffering all his life, but no one had ever known, and Harry was determined to make it right. To make it up to Draco.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter you've all been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry its been a while, I've had so much school work. I'll probably be updating every two weeks or so from now on. Hope you like this chapter!

Draco awoke with a gasp, jolting upright in his bed. His heart was racing and he was taking rapid breaths. He looked around wildly to see that he was in the hospital room, and not in the dungeon of his house. He relaxed slightly, but he could still feel himself trembling. Even now, Draco avoided the dungeons as much as possible. They were definitely his least favorite place in his entire house. 

He hadn’t had a nightmare this bad since putting the memories in the pensieve, but he should’ve expected them to become worse now that his memories were as clear as if the war had been last year, and not more than 20 years ago.  
He took a deep breath, shivering even though his clothes were soaked in sweat. He was a pathetic mess. He didn’t even remember falling asleep after Scorpius and Harry had left.  
The door slowly creaked open, and he jumped at the noise. Merlin, he hadn’t been this jumpy for a long time. 

“Dad?” Scorpius was looking at him worriedly, and Draco forced a smile, although he knew it must looked strained.  
“Are you ok? I heard you scream,” Scorpius asked hesitantly. Draco sighed and closed his eyes. He didn’t remember screaming, but his nightmare had been horrible. 

“I’m fine,” Draco said firmly. He wished it was true.  
Scorpius nodded slowly, although he still looked worried. Draco didn’t know how to feel about that. He was the parent, and he should be the strong one. Not his son. Draco should be asking Scorpius if he was alright, instead of the opposite way around. 

"How long was I asleep?" Draco asked. Scorpius looked nervous for some reason. "I think around two hours," he said. He still looked worried, and Draco sighed. 

“Scorpius, you don’t have to worry about me,” Draco said quietly. Scorpius looked away from him, still looking nervous. Was Scorpius… afraid of him? He couldn’t stand seeing his son look like that around him. It reminded him too much of himself whenever his father was around.  
Draco felt the guilt build up in him again, because this was all his fault. He had hurt his son, which had probably ruined their relationship forever. 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Scorpius said suddenly, and Draco frowned at him. Why was he sorry? This was all Draco’s fault. 

“Don’t be sorry” Draco asked, puzzled. Scorpius looked surprised. Had he thought that Draco blamed him for everything?

“It’s-it’s all my fault, Dad. I went into your room without your permission, I saw the pensieve, I made you come in to get me and…,” he trailed off, and Draco winced inwardly when he saw that Scorpius was trying to hold back tears. 

“Scorpius, none of this is your fault,” Draco said, trying to sound reassuring. Was this when they were supposed to hug? He had never been good at comforting people. It always made him uncomfortable.  
Astoria had always been the affectionate parent, the one who Scorpius went to when he was sad. Although his son had never said it, Draco knew that he had loved Astoria more than him. But he understood that, more than anyone would ever know.

Draco wished that he had died instead of her, that he had the stupid blood malediction instead of her. Then Scorpius would have a better parent, and she would be able to live a full life, the life she deserved. Why was death so unfair? It took the people who deserved to live and left the people who should’ve died.  
Now he could feel himself holding back tears, and he tried not to think of Astoria. 

Draco’s eyes widened when Scorpius ran forward and hugged him, squeezing tightly. He stiffened instinctively and tried his hardest to not accidentally push Scorpius off him.  
“I love you, Dad. I’m so sorry,” Scorpius sobbed, and Draco’s heart broke a little. He slowly wrapped his arms around his son.

Scorpius was sobbing heavily now, and Draco bit his lip to stop his own sobs from coming out, although he felt the familiar burning sensation in his eyes. He had to stay strong for Scorpius, like he had tried to at Astoria’s funeral. 

“It’s ok, Scorpius. I’m sorry too,” Draco muttered quietly, holding his son tightly in his arms. He couldn’t stand to see his normally cheerful son look so devastated. 

When Scorpius’s sobs died down, he was still clutching Draco’s robes, which were soaked with tears. He was so glad that Scorpius had stopped crying, because he was starting to feel uncomfortable. 

“Are you… alright now?” Draco asked carefully. Scorpius nodded, although he was still sniffling.

“I’m fine now,” Scorpius said. He looked up at Draco, and Draco saw worry in his eyes. “But tell me the truth, Dad. Are you ok?” Scorpius asked.

Draco wondered how he could be the father of such a kind, selfless boy. Especially considering how horrible he had been as a child. He felt tears well up in his eyes again and quickly turned away from Scorpius. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” Draco repeated firmly, struggling to keep his face expressionless. He couldn’t afford to break now. Scorpius watched him silently, and Draco knew that he didn’t believe him.

“You know that it’s ok to cry, right Dad?” Scorpius said softly. Draco knew that wasn’t true. Crying was a weakness. He blinked to try and stop the rapidly forming tears from falling, but it was useless. 

For the first time in longer than he could remember, he allowed himself to cry, crushing Scorpius in his arms so fiercely that he wondered how the boy could still breath. He held Scorpius like he was his lifeline, because he was. This boy was all he had left, and Draco would be unable to live if anything happened to him. Which was why he had tried to kill himself. He had hurt his son, and when Scorpius had run away, Draco had thought he had lost the most important thing in his life. Sure, he had his parents, but they, at least his father, didn’t seem to care about him nearly as much as he cared about them. And that hurt him as well. 

Scorpius looked surprised, and Draco realized that his son hadn’t actually expected him to cry. He felt ashamed as he felt the tears drip down his cheeks. He was weak, and he shouldn’t be breaking down like this, especially in front of his son. But he couldn’t stop crying now that he had started. All his grief poured out of him, and he felt Scorpius hug him back just as tightly. 

“It’s ok, Dad,” Scorpius muttered softly, patting his back gently. Draco closed his eyes and took a long, shuddering breath as he tried to get his emotions back under control. He was so, so tired of being weak. Of being afraid. 

He wiped his tears away and and avoided his son’s worried gaze.

There was a long period of silence, and Draco appreciated that Scorpius wasn’t saying anything. He couldn’t handle the embarrassment. 

“That’s good,” Scorpius said suddenly. Draco looked at him, startled.  
“What?” Draco asked.  
“It’s good that you cried, Dad. It’s not good to hold in your emotions for so long,” Scorpius said wisely.

Draco smiled tiredly.  
“When did you get so clever, Scorpius? It seems like only yesterday that you were a toddler learning how to walk.” Thinking about his good memories, which mostly consisted of Scorpius and Astoria, helped him forget his troubles at least for now. 

Scorpius grinned. “I’m 15 now, almost 16!” he laughed. “I’m not a baby anymore!”  
Draco felt his smile fade away. His son was growing up too fast. Soon, he would graduate from Hogwarts, and Draco knew how much his son hated the manor. He would most definitely move out, leaving Draco all alone once again. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. 

There was an awkward silence again, and Draco didn't know what to say. He and his son had never been especially close, however much Draco wanted them to be, and Astoria’s death had only driven then farther apart. They had never talked about personal, serious topics like these before. Part of the reason might’ve been that Scorpius didn’t know how important he was to Draco, how much Draco cared about him. Why else would his son have agreed to run away with Potter’s son, without even considering how worried his father would be? But he hoped he was wrong, because he wanted his son to know how much he loved him. 

“Son, you know that I love you right?” Draco asked uncomfortably. He had never really been the type of person to express his emotions openly.  
His heart dropped when he saw the shocked look on his son’s face.

“Uhh, I guess? I mean, yes,” Scorpius sounded flustered, and Draco felt a pang in his chest. Had his son really not known that? It was his fault. He couldn’t remember the last time he had said that to Scorpius. 

“I love you,” Draco repeated quietly, and this time Scorpius beamed at him.  
“I love you too!” he smiled. But Draco couldn't smile back. He had thought that he showed enough love to Scorpius, that he had made Scorpius feel loved in the way he never had. He had never outright told Scorpius that, though. Maybe that was the reason?

“Did you really believe that I didn’t love you?” Draco asked, dreading the answer. Scorpius frowned and looked down. 

“I guess I knew that you loved me, but…” He sighed, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. The same way Draco did when he was nervous. 

“But what?” Draco asked patiently. He wanted his son to be completely honest with him. 

“I don’t know, I just felt like I was a disappointment to you. Because I’m a follower, not a leader, and I know that you tried to teach me to be a leader. And because I’m shy and clumsy, and definitely not as popular and confident as you were in school.” He looked up at Draco nervously.

Draco’s heart ached. He had never known that Scorpius felt this way. 

“Scorpius, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I…” Draco trailed off.  


He didn’t know what to say. He felt horrible. He had done the one thing he had vowed never to do; he had made his son feel unloved. Had he really been that bad of a father? Sure, he had never been the most affectionate parent, and he was a strict father. He remembered lecturing his son on many occasions. But he had believed himself to be better than his own father. Was he really?

Scorpius was still watching him expectantly, and Draco sighed in frustration. Why was it so hard for him to talk to his own son? Why couldn’t he just be a better parent, like Astoria had been? 

“That’s not true, Scorpius,” Draco sighed. He rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine coming. 

“I never thought you were a disappointment. I’m sorry that you ever felt like I did,” he said quietly. “I will always love you just the way you are.”  
Draco wished with all of his heart that his own father would say this to him one day. It had been the one thing he had wanted to hear the most as a child. He wanted his father to say that he loved him. That was a hole in his heart that would never be filled. 

Scorpius looked so happy now that Draco had to smile, although he knew it didn’t reach his eyes.  
“You’re the greatest dad I could ever have,” Scorpius said, and those few words made Draco’s heart warm. He forgot about his troubles and smiled so widely that his cheeks ached. He couldn’t remember being this happy in a long time. Even if it would take time to repair his relationship with his son, Draco was determined to do it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has to decide what to do with his knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I know this chapter is short, but I promise the next one will be longer. Hope you like it!

It was almost impossible for Harry to find his way back downstairs in the manor. He had known it was big, but this was ridiculous! Why did two people need so much space? His family had five people, and their house was probably at least two times smaller than this house. And they all lived comfortably in their house. 

He stumbled around the house until he saw the one other room that looked inhabited. It must be Scorpius’s room, he thought. And right across from it was the staircase. He sighed in relief and took the long walk back downstairs. 

And after getting downstairs, he was faced with another problem: figuring out how to get out. Of course Malfoy Manor had anti-disapperating charms on it. So he had to find the room he had been to before, where the floo was. The halls seemed endless, and he wished that Scorpius hadn’t left him here alone. How was he supposed to know how to get around this maze?

He pushed open another door and shuddered when he saw where he was. It was the room he had seen in Draco’s memories. Where he had been tortured. He wondered how Draco could stand living in a place that had so many bad memories associated with it. 

The room looked empty, like it hadn’t been used in a long time. Obviously Draco wouldn’t want to come back in here, after what had happened. 

Harry backed out of the room and walked down the hall again. Then he remembered: Tiffy! 

“Tiffy!” he called, and jumped when the house elf appeared with a loud snap. 

“Mr. Potter!” she exclaimed. “Master Scorpius said you was here.”

“Can you show me where the floo is?” Harry asked. Tiffy nodded eagerly and led him down another hallway, until they got to the other end and she opened the door. Inside was the room Harry had entered in.

“Thank you,” Harry said. 

“Of course, Mr. Potter! Can Tiffy help you with anything else?” she asked. Harry was about to shake his head no before he hesitated. 

“What time is it?” he asked slowly. How long had he been gone?

“It is 6 PM, Mr. Potter!” Tiffy said. Harry’s mouth dropped open. He had been in the pensieve for around half a day! Ginny was probably worried. He quickly grabbed some floo powder from the jar and yelled “Grimmauld Place!” 

He stumbled out of the floo, and was almost immediately faced with his furious wife. His children were sitting at the table, and Lily gave him a sympathetic look. Albus just rolled his eyes, and James looked amused. Harry gulped. 

“Where have you been? It’s been almost a day since you left! When Albus returned, we expected you to come back soon, but you didn’t!” Ginny could be just as terrifying as Molly Weasley when angered.

“Listen, I can explain…” Harry looked at where his children were and hesitated. Ginny understood immediately, and her anger faded away, replaced by worry. She nodded and motioned to the door. 

Harry followed her out the door, and heard shuffling from behind him.   
“James, don’t you dare!” Ginny called out, and there was silence. Harry had to grin at James’s obvious attempt to listen to their conversation.

“Let’s go outside,” Ginny suggested. Harry nodded. His kids were too curious for their own good. Harry had no doubt that they would find some way to eavesdrop if he and Ginny stayed in the house. The two of them made their way into the garden, and Ginny immediately turned to Harry.

“What happened?” she asked worriedly. Harry grimaced.   
“There’s a lot… and it’s about Draco,” Harry said. Ginny’s lips pursed.

“I know it’s about Draco. What happened after you went to visit him at the hospital? Why were you gone for so long?” she asked. Harry sighed and shook his head. 

“I went to visit him, and we kinda ended up dueling again.”   
“What did you do this time?” Ginny asked with a sigh. Harry frowned.

“Why do you assume it’s me all the time?” he asked. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Come on, Harry. Even though Draco isn’t the nicest person, we both know that he won’t attack you with magic unless he’s provoked. Especially now.” 

Harry shrugged, even though he knew that she was right. Now he felt the guilt from before again. He had told Draco that he was hated by everyone, and even if that had been true, Draco didn’t deserve to be told that. Especially because he obviously knew that better than anyone.

“Maybe I did provoke him… but that’s not the point,” he said quickly, before Ginny could say anything. He could trust Ginny, he knew. He could tell her everything that had happened. And she would never tell anyone else.

And he did, explaining everything that had happened since he and Albus had gone to the hospital until now. Ginny listened without interrupting the entire time, her eyes widening and growing more horrified as his story went on. 

When he finished, Ginny was silent. 

“I’ve never liked Draco, but how could his father do that to him? His own son. That’s… unforgivable,” Ginny whispered, and Harry saw the horror in her eyes that mirrored his own.

“But I have a plan, Ginny. If we manage to show these memories to the Ministry, they’ll do something…” But Ginny was already shaking her head. 

“Harry, I know that you and Draco are friends now, but how do you think he would feel if his worst memories were shown to the world? Especially the last few…” Ginny said softly. 

Harry sighed. Ginny was always the reasonable one. And she was right, as usual. Having his private memories shown to everyone was probably the last thing Draco wanted. Especially when many of those people despised him and his family. Who knew what other rumors could be spread if they found out about his weaknesses? But Harry couldn’t help feeling like they should do something more, something to help Draco. He pushed the thought away. What’s done is done, he thought firmly. It was in the past, and it would probably benefit Draco more to pretend that none of this had ever happened.

“You’re right. We should just leave it alone,” Harry said reluctantly. Ginny smiled at him, although there was a sad tinge to it. 

“I know you want to help him, Harry, but he’s already been through enough. This would just make things worse for him,” she said. 

Harry nodded, and suddenly felt a burst of love towards the woman in front of him. He remembered how heartbroken Draco had been when Astoria died, and he tried not to imagine it happening to Ginny. He suddenly pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. Her eyebrows raised, but she hugged him back. Harry kissed her, and she kissed him back just as enthusiastically. 

Suddenly, she jumped away, and Harry looked at her in confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently. Ginny’s eyes were narrowed, and she was looking around the garden quickly. 

“I thought I heard something…” she said, still looking around. “I guess it was nothing.” But she still looked uncomfortable, and Harry saw that. 

“Let’s go back inside,” he said, and the two of them walked back inside. Neither of them noticed the movement from behind them.


End file.
